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ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

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FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
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SUUM    CUIQUE:   ESSAYS   IN   MUSIC 


LSUUM  CUIQUE 

ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 


By 

O.  G.  SONNECK 


& 


G.  SCHIRMER 

New  York  :  3  East  43d  St.     .     London,  W.  :  18,  Berners  St. 
Boston  :  The  Boston  Music  Co. 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
G.  Schirmer 

26534 


PREFATORY    NOTE 

The  articles  forming  this  book  have  been  reprinted 
by  courteous  permission  of  the  original  publishers  and 
practically  without  change.  That  will  account  for  in- 
consistencies of  opinion,  if  such  there  be.  I  hope  that 
to  be  the  case,  since  chronic  consistency  is  a  virtue 
in  mummies  only.  At  any  rate,  no  attempt  was  made 
to  adjust  earlier  to  later  views.  "Paris  versions"  are 
always  anachronistic,  even  if  better. 

Some  readers  may  miss  a  reprint  of  such  historical 
essays  as  that  on  "  Early  American  Operas,"  occasionally 
confused  with  my  book  on  "Early  Opera  in  America." 
They  are  reserved  for  eventual  publication  in  a  second 
volume  of  selected  assays. 

To  Dr.  Theodore  Baker  my  hearty  thanks  are  due  for 
seeing  the  book  through  the  press  and  for  his  masterly 
atmospheric  translation  of  the  German  articles. 

O.  G.  Sonneck. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

Suum  cuique  3 

Music  and  Progress  15 

National  Tone-Speech  versus  Volapuk — Which?  25 

The  Musical  Side  of  Our  First  Presidents  37 

Benjamin  Franklin's  Musical  Side  59 

MacDowell  versus  MacDowell  87 

A  National  Conservatory:    Some  Pros  and  Cons  107 

A  Survey  of  Music  in  America  121 

Anton  Beer-Walbrunn  157 

Was  Richard  Wagner  a  Jew?  177 

Signs  of  a  New  Uplift  in  Italy's  Musical  Life  215 


SUUM  CUIQUE 


SUUM  CUIQUE 

("Die  Musik,"  1907-8,  Vol.  VII,  No.  10) 

Anarchy!  Hypocrisy!  Back  to  antiquity!  Dash  to 
the  extreme  left!  Damocles'  sword  of  beauty!  De- 
generation! Regeneration!  Pseudo-music!  Celestial 
super-music!  Hellish  discords!  —  What  a  fine  thing  the 
slogan  is,  forsooth!  It  works  like  effervescent  lemonade 
tablets;  one  sets  them  foaming  according  to  his  per- 
sonal taste  and  regales  himself  and  others,  but  more 
especially  posterity,  who  will  wonder  how  it  was  pos- 
sible to  label  the  latest  querelle  des  bouffons  with  the 
poet  Henckell's  saying  about  our  "mighty  age."  Be- 
sides, it  is  really  comical  how  that  repellantly-attractive 
young  lady  Salome  is  all  at  once  shouldered  with  the 
responsibility  for  ideas  which  may  have  worn  the  charm 
of  novelty  some  ten  years  ago.  One  surveying  this 
scrimmage  from  a  distance  feels  tempted  to  provide  a 
prelude  to  Master  Draeseke's  now  so  familiar  dictum: 
Confusion  over  the  "confusion  in  music." 

In  all  this  there  is  nothing  mighty,  save  intolerance; 
while  the  angle  of  vision  is  of  the  narrowest.  So  hedged 
in  by  the  bounds  of  the  realm,  that  through  it  all  one 
can  hear  the  too-importunate  cry  "Neu-Deutschland, 
Deutschland  uber  alles!"  (or  "Beneath  criticism!"  as 
the  case  may  be).  In  a  word,  it  would  seem  that  in 
Germany  itself  only  a  few  members  of  the  Allgemeiner 
Deutscher  Musikverein  might  be  mentioned  who,  by  and 
large,  have  no  cause  to  complain  of  the  public,  the  critics, 
and  the  publishers.  A  sufficient  reason  for  the  more 
tolerant  attitude  of  the  antipodean  Dioscuri  Strauss  and 
Reger,  as  contrasted  with  their  opponents,  towards  even 
Mendelssohn,  who,  after  all,  was  not  wholly  without 
talent. 

3 


4 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Now,  what  is  all  this  hubbub  about?  At  bottom, 
merely  whether  the  so-called  immutable  canons  of 
beauty  in  art  permit  one  to  write  music  as  the  laws  of 
his  being  dictate.  Whereupon  music-history  and  musical 
aesthetics  are  forthwith  brought  into  action  —  nota  bene, 
by  both  sides  —  in  order  to  solve  a  problem  which  is 
none.  This  prompts  me  to  quote  a  paradox  launched 
by  the  poet  Georg  Fuchs:  "There  is  no  art;  there  are 
only  artists."  For  me  there  is  far  more  wisdom  in  this 
flash  of  wit  than  in  dogmas  on  the  limitations  and  the 
true  sphere  of  music,  parading  in  their  profundity  as  the 
sole  means  of  grace.  The  artist  has  a  right  to  express 
himself  in  tones  as  the  spirit  may  move.  Whoever,  for 
any  reason,  finds  no  pleasure  in  the  product,  has  an 
equal  right  to  vent  his  displeasure  through  speech  or 
pen,  but  he  must  not  set  up  to  be  an  art- pontiff  or 
art-bailiff.  No  one  man,  not  even  a  Bach,  a  Mozart, 
Beethoven,  Wagner,  or  Brahms,  has  yet  possessed  a 
monopoly  in  the  development  of  music.  No  more  have 
Richard  Strauss,  or  Reger,  and  those  who  swell  their 
train  for  reasons  intrinsic  or  extrinsic.  Each  one  simply 
contributes  what  his  nature,  influenced  by  the  Zeitgeist, 
demands  of  him.  Whether  this  is  done  in  the  flush  of 
youthful  zeal  or  with  the  cooler  calculation  of  age,  is 
unimportant.  Nor  does  it  matter  whether  he  gains 
wealth  and  fame  at  a  bound,  or  grows  old  hungering 
before  his  seed  brings  its  harvest,  or  even  has  to  await 
the  music-historian,  who  in  certain  circles  is  painted  as 
a  kind  of  Satan  with  queue  a  la  chinoise. 

It  is  equally  immaterial,  on  what  Master  a  composer 
is  based  or  thinks  he  is  based ;  for  even  the  wildest  anar- 
chist is  demonstrably  descended  from  one  or  more 
masters,  no  matter  whether  he  be  afflicted  with  ill- 
assimilated  Wagner  or  ill-digested  Kucken.  He  must 
not  even  be  forbidden  to  employ  squeaking  piglings  as 
orchestral  color,  if  only  he  can  impose  the  impression 
on  the  hearer  —  no  matter  whether  the  latter  otherwise 


SUUM  CUIQUE 


likes  or  dislikes  the  work  —  that  his  musico-zoological 
cult  is  spontaneous  and  sincere.  He  may  frame  quad- 
ruple fugues,  or  fashion  a  musical  projection  of  the 
Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa,  should  the  spirit  irresistibly 
urge  him  thereto.  Whether  genius  or  botcher,  Jove  or 
ox,  equal  rights  for  all.  One  must  not  even  dispute  an 
artist's  right  to  be  tasteless  from  the  very  depths  of  his 
being.  Let  him  therefore  sow  whatsoe'er  he  will.  But 
when  he  brings  the  fruits  of  his  spiritual  travail  to 
market,  let  him,  in  turn,  be  tolerant.  He  must  not  fly 
into  a  rage  when  hearers  and  critics  weigh  his  product 
with  the  same  sincerity  which  constrained  him  to  shape 
his  note-heads  thus  or  so.  One  who  is  confronted  with  a 
work  given  over  to  publicity,  and  also  takes  art  seriously, 
has  precisely  the  same  right  as  the  artist  to  be  an  anar- 
chist or  reactionary,  according  to  his  disposition;  and 
the  artist,  too,  has  really  no  right  to  dispute  his  right 
to  be  tasteless  from  the  very  depths  of  his  being. 

Not  what  the  composer  does,  but  how  he  does  it  — 
that  is  the  point  at  issue.  The  form,  the  material,  the 
plastic  or  philosophical  subject-matter,  is  the  foundation 
from  which  he  throws  out  a  bridge  for  the  valuation  of 
his  work.  This  foundation  is  the  given  premise,  the 
glass,  through  which  the  composer  desires  his  work  to 
be  surveyed,  and  the  question  is  simply  whether  or  no 
he  has  attained  what  he  aimed  at.  If  you  approach  any 
given  work  with  a  set  of  preconceived  artistic  beliefs, 
you  substitute  an  artificial  premise  for  the  natural  one, 
and  forgo  in  advance  the  possibility  of  impartial  recep- 
tivity. Should  your  premise  be  the  same  as  the  artist's, 
an  overvaluation  of  the  work  usually  results;  but  if  the 
two  are  antagonistic,  the  work  is  sure  to  be  most  despite- 
fully  used.  Two  instances:  When  the  composer  an- 
nounces a  quadruple  fugue,  the  opponent  of  quadruple 
fugues  should  stay  at  home.  But,  if  he  does  venture 
into  the  lion's  den,  he  must  be  prepared  to  meet  some- 
thing he  dislikes.     He  can  reasonably  expect  only  a 


6 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

quadruple  fugue,  and  not  a  symphonic  poem.  The 
matter  to  be  decided  is  solely  to  what  extent  the  com- 
poser succeeded  in  writing  a  well-considered  quadruple 
fugue.  On  the  other  hand,  in  case  the  composer  takes  it 
into  his  head  to  construct  a  musical  projection  of  the 
Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa,  the  opponents  of  program-music 
may  view  this  attempt  with  regret,  but  they  have  no 
right  to  expect  a  quadruple  fugue.  Contrariwise,  they 
are  most  decidedly  justified  in  demanding  a  demon- 
stration ad  aures  of  the  Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa  instead 
of,  say,  the  two  leaning  towers  of  Bologna.  Hence,  let 
a  quadruple  fugue  be  a  quadruple  fugue;  let  program- 
music  be  program-music.  But  both  must,  above  all 
else,  be  rich  in  musical  invention!  So  this  ^Esthetic  of 
the  Specific  requires,  so  to  speak,  homoeopathic  rather 
than  allopathic  criticism. 

Herewithal,  war  is  by  no  means  declared  on  either 
the  passionate  or  dispassionate,  objective  discussion  of 
aesthetic  problems.  But  theories  have  nothing  in 
common  with  an  impartial  estimate  of  a  given  work. 
They  belong  in  another  sphere  of  interest,  which  is,  in 
its  way,  as  important  and  necessary  as  artistic  crea- 
tion— and  this  by  virtue  of  the  incontrovertible  considera- 
tion that  everything,  that  exists,  evidently  must  exist. 
As  far  as  the  creative  artist  is  concerned,  historical, 
aesthetic  and  theoretical  discussions  bear  instruction  of 
chiefly  technical  value  for  him.  They  are  adapted,  like 
ball-playing  for  the  muscles,  to  develop  his  technique 
on  the  side  of  harmony,  form,  etc.,  but  more  particu- 
larly in  the  matter  of  taste.  It  will  hardly  be  denied 
that  the  creative  artists  themselves  are  not  invariably 
persons  of  most  refined  taste;  or  —  if  this  be  not  ad- 
mitted —  at  least  that  they  hold  no  monopoly  of  good 
taste.  And  if  even  this  be  denied,  it  must  surely  be 
allowed  that  good  taste,  like  any  other  human  attribute, 
can  be  stunted  or  grow  to  maturity.  He  who  by  nature 
has  no  taste  —  and  many  otherwise  gifted  composers 


SUUM  CUIQUE 


seem  to  suffer  from  this  deficiency  —  can  at  least  be 
taught  to  avoid  glaring  errors  of  taste,  as  the  blind 
learn  not  to  run  against  the  wall.  Now,  who  shall 
undertake  the  inculcation  of  taste?  First  of  all,  the 
Masters  themselves,  through  the  example  of  their  works. 
True,  the  more  magnetic  their  art,  the  more  dangerous 
are  they  for  composers  still  impressionable  as  wax,  and 
many  a  gifted  mind  has  become  —  not  from  lack  of 
individuality,  but  on  account  of  too  early  familiarity 
with  patterns  predesigned  for  him  by  Nature  —  a  victim 
of  the  patent  "process  of  dissimilitudinarization",  by 
which  the  faithful  disciples  seek  a  further  develop- 
ment of  precisely  what  is  perishable  in  the  pattern, 
namely,  the  mannerisms.  If  only  for  this  reason,  the 
composers  cannot  claim  an  exclusive  right  to  show  the 
way  to  good  taste  through  their  works.  Just  as  little 
can  he  claim  this  right,  who  has  made  it  his  lifework 
to  excise  the  kernel  —  the  representative  types,  as  it 
were  —  from  masterworks  by  means  of  investigations 
and  comparisons  in  the  history,  technique  and  philosophy 
of  art.  The  conclusions  reached  by  such  theoretical 
studies  may  be  more  or  less  ingenious,  well  grounded, 
shrewd  and  fascinating,  but  are  not  binding.  At  best, 
they  merely  crystallize  the  precipitate  of  personal  taste 
into  a  confession  of  faith.  They  always  are  and  must 
be  subjective  (at  most,  collectively  subjective),  and 
never  of  fundamental,  universal  applicability.  More 
especially,  with  respect  to  the  future.  In  any  event, 
it  is  immaterial  whether  a  theorist  or  critic  (in  the  above 
sense)  hits  the  mark  with  his  prophecies  or  stultifies 
himself.  He,  too,  precisely  like  the  creative  artist,  can 
yield  only  what  his  own  nature  demands  of  him.  His 
importance  for  art  lies  in  the  fact  that  his  teachings, 
through  the  vibration  of  sympathetic  chords  in  kindred 
souls,  open  the  eyes  of  artists  who  yet  are  blind  or  pur- 
blind, and  draw  them  to  their  predestined  paths.  While 
plotting  this  critical  weather-report  we  must  not  be  led 


8 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

astray  by  the  circumstance  that  the  cleverest  theorists 
sometimes  cast  the  gauntlet  before  the  most  prosperous 
talents.  However  well-intentioned,  the  theorist  simply 
can  not  make  himself  a  universal  guide  to  good  taste; 
all  that  he  can  do  is  to  provide  a  positive  stimulus  for 
the  artist  of  kindred  affects.  Unless  we  aim  at  inbreed- 
ing, we  should  rejoice  when  all  possible  theoretical 
colors  crowd  our  palette.  Then  each  artist  can  select 
those  which  he  lacks  for  the  clear  emblazonment  of  his 
artistic  mission.  When  once  the  far-reaching  benefit, 
for  art,  of  such  a  tolerant  conception  is  recognized  in 
principle,  any  individual  may  be  as  intolerant  toward  any 
other  as  ever  he  pleases.  Then  we  should  have  the  free 
competition  of  contending  forces  instead  of  the  em- 
bittered blind-alley  feuds  which  so  deplorably  dis- 
tinguish us  musicians  from  other  artists. 

The  labyrinthine  and  withal  narrow  way  from  the 
score  to  the  concert-hall  and  the  stage  has  the  natural 
effect,  that  we  musicians  cannot  have  the  same  con- 
sideration for  producers  of  dissimilar  kind  as  we  might 
willingly  show,  were  the  possibilities  of  "arriving"  of  a 
less  complicated  sort.  Still,  that  is  no  reason  for  turn- 
ing a  necessary  evil  into  a  disgraceful  outrage.  For  an 
outrage  it  is  when  music,  in  the  pretended  interest  of 
so-called  progress  and  the  thinly-veiled  interests  of  a 
"spiritual  coalition,"  is  forced  into  the  straitjacket  of 
some  few  "tendencies,"  whether  it  be  the  tendency  of 
the  trilateral  fortification  Berlioz-Liszt-Wagner,  or  yet 
beyond  them  to  Richard  Strauss,  or  to  Brahms  and 
through  him  on  to  Reger.  Music,  now  as  ever,  is  a 
realm  of  unlimited  possibilities.  Beside  her  mountain- 
heights  she  has  her  hill-countries;  she  has  her  steppes, 
and  also  her  forests;  her  rivers  and  her  rivulets,  her 
sunrise  and  her  sunset.  Such  a  wealth  of  diversified 
charms  has  she,  that  every  taste  may  find  what  it 
seeks.  Now  some  one  digs  a  couple  of  canals  and  tries 
with  might  and  main  to  lead  taste — that  is,  the  evolution 


SUUM  CUIQUE 


of  music  —  into  them,  without  stopping  to  think 
that  canals  are  artificial  and  gradually  get  choked  with 
mud.  Many  ways  lead  to  the  Beautiful;  precisely  so 
many  ways  are  there,  as  individualities.  So  with  the 
notion  of  "tendency"  we  cannot  go  far,  for  it  postulates 
a  tablature  of  common  characteristics,  instead  of  finding 
the  chief  est  charm  in  just  those  subtle  divergences 
which  do  not  permit  of  tabulation.  Now,  as  that 
which  is  common  must  naturally  form  the  groundfloor, 
we  might  say  that  the  partisan  of  the  aesthetics  of  "ten- 
dency" artificially  obstructs  sundry  wellsprings  of  music, 
joins  the  union,  and  starts  boycotting  right  and  left. 

In  this  chamber  of  horrors  two  Procrustean  beds 
occupy  the  place  of  honor;  our  so-called  absolute  music, 
and  our  no  less  so-called  program-music.  This  limitation 
is  masterly,  but  is  further  refined  by  those  who  consider 
only  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  species  to  be 
admissible.  Such  renunciation  of  either  species  for  one's 
aesthetic  home-consumption  assuredly  has  a  certain 
charm  and  a  certain  value  in  educating  one's  taste;  but 
whether  one  does  (like  your  humble  servant)  or  does 
not  draw  the  line  strictly  between  musical  symbolics 
and  musical  symbolism,  and  is  or  is  not  able  to  follow 
all  the  contortions  of  certain  programmists  with  pleasure, 
not  to  mention  the  academic  parade-march  of  certain 
absolutists,  no  aesthetic  casuistry  can  make  away  with 
the  fact  that  these  two  species  have  existed  side  by  side 
for  centuries.  And  once  again  we  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  simple  consideration  that  whatever  exists  evi- 
dently must  exist.  The  high  tides  in  the  two  species  do 
not,  however,  always  coincide,  and  our  historians  may 
sometime  accept  the  view  which  I  brought  forward  as 
long  as  ten  years  ago,  which  is,  that  a  process  of  mutual 
inoculation  goes  on  between  the  two  species  in  their 
various  seasons.  Furthermore,  since  every  separate 
entity  perishes  in  order  to  bloom  again  —  through 
regeneration  or,  if  you  prefer,  through  reincarnation  — 


_10 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

in  a  new  form,  there  is  no  reason  for  aesthetic  anxiety. 
Program-music,  which  for  the  nonce  is,  so  to  say,  the 
fashionable  flower,  will  wither,  will  make  room  for  the 
"absolute"  music  which  it  has  fructified  —  until  the 
pendulum  again  swings  over  to  the  other  side.  This 
renewal  of  growth  will  repeat  itself  till  the  millennium 
of  music,  although  springing  from  the  soil  of  fresh  means 
and  modes  of  expression.  In  brief,  the  style  changes, 
the  genus  remains.  There  is,  however,  no  metronome 
for  this  natural,  automatic  process,  and  not  even  the 
cleverest  theorist  has  the  slightest  influence  on  its  tempo. 
Whenever  the  development  of  music  depends  on  any- 
thing tangible,  we  shall  generally  find  some  external 
condition,  some  circumstance  of  organization  or  climate, 
in  the  environment  of  the  creative  artist:  his  surround- 
ings while  growing  up,  the  composition  of  the  orchestra, 
the  support  of  the  theatre  by  private  or  public  means, 
the  lack  of  concert-halls,  the  interest  in  choral  singing, 
the  influence  of  war  or  peace  on  the  popular  readiness 
to  support  musical  enterprises,  and  other  like  matters 
of  a  purely  economic  nature. 

There  are  those  who  will  find  in  these  observations  an 
undervaluation  of  the  idea  "tendency."  Perhaps  we 
can  reach  an  agreement  if  a  boundary-line  be  drawn 
between  this  idea  and  that  of  the  "school."  What  is 
meant  by  this  differentiation  may  be  figuratively  ex- 
pressed as  follows:  Whereas,  in  the  case  of  the  "school," 
the  development  can  spread  by  radiation,  with  the 
"tendency"  the  rays  are  concentrated  in  one  focus.  By 
following  up  this  conception  you  will  find  that  the 
aesthetics  of  "tendency"  must  lead,  on  the  one  hand,  to 
an  overvaluation  of  congenial  spirits,  and,  on  the  other, 
to  pessimism  with  regard  to  one's  own  times.  Otherwise 
I,  for  my  part,  am  unable  to  explain  the  oft-repeated 
Jeremiads  over  the  current  poverty  of  invention.  But 
these  same  Jeremiads  are,  in  turn,  only  the  expression 
of  an  unwholesome,  chronic  intolerance.     He  who  seeks 


SUUM  CUIQUE  11 


after  poverty  with  Diogenes'  lantern,  will  find  poverty. 
Whether  we  harbor  in  our  midst  geniuses  of  the  incon- 
testable greatness  of  Bach,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  or 
Wagner,  the  future  alone  may  show.  However,  the 
creative  wealth  of  an  epoch  does  not  depend  on  the 
geniuses,  but  on  the  number  of  those  gifted  ones  who 
possess  a  profile  of  their  own.  Of  such  there  is  certainly 
no  scarcity  to-day.  On  the  contrary,  our  times,  in  that 
respect,  are  on  a  par  with  any  other  epoch.  But  we 
must  really  know  our  contemporaries.  Of  course,  any 
one  who  is  possessed  of  the  tendency  devil  will  pass  by 
many  with  indifferent  haste,  or  survey  them  from  the 
wrong  side,  or  pronounce  a  premature  sentence  on  those 
who  escape  all  classification  and  whose  individuality 
hides  behind  their  peculiarities  as  behind  a  hedge  of 
thorns.  Where,  for  example,  will  the  aesthetics  of  ten- 
dency in  Germany  place  Arnold  Mendelssohn,  Iwan 
Knorr,  Anton  Beer-Walbrunn?  They  belong  to  no 
category,  and  yet  are  striking  types. 

But  such  artists  of  whom  too  little  is  known  should 
not  be  contrasted  with  or  weighed  over  against  one 
another,  neither  ought  one  to  reproach  them  with  the 
"good  old"  times  or  the  "better  new"  times,  or  even 
boycott  them  because  their  style  is  not  controlled  by 
the  syndicate  of  Strauss  &  Co.,  and  because  they  have  a 
mind  to  go  their  own  way  apart.  If  the  creative  assets 
of  our  times  are  to  be  estimated  according  to  such 
criterions,  then,  indeed,  our  cavillers  at  the  actual  are 
right.  But  the  outside  world,  at  all  events,  need  not  let 
itself  be  drawn  into  this  unprofitable  quarrel .  And  it  must 
be  most  emphatically  insisted  upon,  that  Germany  has 
no  claims  whatever  to  a  monopoly  of  talent  at  the 
present  day.  Or  is  it  claimed  that  Debussy,  d'Indy, 
Faure,  Dukas,  Puccini,  Martucci,  Bossi,  Elgar,  Delius, 
Holbrooke,  Bantock,  MacDowell,  Loeffler,  Converse, 
Hadley,  Chadwick,  Parker,  Stillman  Kelley,  Rimsky- 
Korsakow,  Scriabine,  Rebikoff ,  Rachmaninow,  Balakirew, 


12 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Stenhammar,  Sjogren,  Sibelius,  Lange-M tiller,  Nielson, 
Peterson-Berger,  and  many  beside,  who  are  culti- 
vating music  after  their  own  fashion,  are  Germans, 
or  quite  unworthy  of  mention  when  a  review  is  held  of 
the  German  artists  by  the  grace  of  God?  In  music,  as 
in  other  matters,  Germany  is  only  one  great  power 
among  the  great  powers.  The  other  lands  have  allowed 
themselves  to  be  fructified  by  the  Wagner-Liszt-Brahms 
epoch  only  in  so  far  as  was  artistically  necessary ;  for  the 
rest,  they  have  found,  either  outside  of  Germany  or  at 
home,  such  inspiration  for  their  music  of  the  present  or 
the  future  as  comports  with  their  national  character. 
There  is  an  inclination  to  poke  fun  at  the  average 
Italian,  who,  in  conversation  with  forestieri,  is  fond  of 
airing  his  next-of-kinship  with  Dante.  Now,  it  is  an 
unwelcome,  unpalatable  truth,  which  can  not,  of  course, 
be  appreciated  to  the  full  by  the  German  himself, 
though  all  the  better  by  outsiders,  that  for  something 
like  thirty  years  the  average  German  musician  has 
tested  foreign  compositions,  first  of  all,  for  their  German 
content.  Should  this  latter  be  of  little  consequence,  the 
whole  work  —  for  him  —  is  apt  to  be  thought  of  little 
consequence.  Now,  is  the  fact  that  the  French,  the  Rus- 
sians, etc.,  found  it  easier  than  the  Germans  to  tear 
themselves  from  the  arms  of  the  giant,  Wagner,  any 
reason  for  getting  angry  with  them  just  for  doing  so? 
Such  chauvinism  is  the  height  of  intolerance.  Honor 
your  German  masters,  but  do  not  deny  other  peoples 
the  right,  when  they  feel  the  power  stirring  within  them, 
to  follow  their  own  devices  after  a  century  of  Gefman 

tutelage. 

{Translated  by  Theodore  Baker.) 


MUSIC  AND  PROGRESS 


MUSIC  AND  PROGRESS 

(New  Music  Review,  1908) 

The  popular  mind  believes  progress  to  be  an  irresistibly 
steady  development  from  good  to  better,  but  progress  is 
rather  the  prompt  and  logical  adaptation  to  the  exigencies 
of  changing  conditions.  An  individual  or  a  nation  ceases 
to  be  progressive  when  they  adhere  to  the  methods  of  the 
past  without  preparing  for  the  future.  Things  come  and 
go  in  a  kind  of  counterpoint,  and  it  is  not  always  easy  to 
distinguish  between  the  germ  of  decay  and  the  germ  of 
development.  Nor  is  it  at  all  true  that  the  new  is  always 
really  better  than  the  old.  It  is  simply  different,  a  matter 
of  necessity,  the  logical  result  of  the  modulation  into  new 
conditions;  and  the  inventors,  prophets  or  discoverers 
of  any  idea,  political,  economic,  artistic,  technical,  are 
merely  those  who  scent  this  change.  All  this  seems  so 
obvious  that  I  almost  feel  ashamed  of  having  mentioned 
it.  Yet  this  cold-blooded  and  perhaps  prosaic  attitude 
towards  progress  does  not  appeal  to  those — and  they  are 
in  the  majority — who  ultimately  expect  another  Eden. 
Nor  is  it  a  Christian  attitude.  Still,  it  is  just  as  stimu- 
lating ethically  as  the  "progress-equal-to-better"  theory, 
and  just  as  sensible.  Indeed,  if  we  weigh  them  both  in 
matters  of  art,  and  particularly  of  music,  it  cannot  be 
doubtful  which  of  the  two  theories  is  the  more  correct 
and  fruitful. 

Logically,  the  popular  conception  of  progress  would 
lead  to  the  dogma  that  music  is  steadily  becoming 
"better."  In  other  words,  sooner  or  later  some  composer 
without  special  talent  would  produce  better  music  than 
Wagner,  Beethoven,  Mozart,  Haydn,  Bach,  Monteverdi, 
Palestrina,  simply  because  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  be 
born  a  few  centuries  after  them.    The  conclusion  seems 

15 


16 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

inevitable,  yet  the  absurdity  is  apparent.  No,  with  all 
due  respect  for  the  lessons  of  our  youth,  progress  is  not 
a  matter  of  chronology.  It  will  be  asked,  Admitting 
that  Monteverdi,  for  instance,  was  a  creative  genius  of 
the  first  rank,  that  his  innovations  have  not  been  sur- 
passed in  daring,  that  his  art  appealed  to  his  contempo- 
raries with  the  strongest  possible  force,  that  his  insight 
into  the  esthetics  of  opera  was  amazingly  keen — admit- 
ting all  this,  are  not  his  operas  primitive  and  crude  as 
compared  with  those  of  Wagner?  Is  "Tristan  und 
Isolde"  really  not  an  improvement  on  "Orfeo"?  In  many 
respects,  unmistakably,  and  it  would  be  foolish  to  deny 
a  chronological  improvement  within  a  given  form  or 
species  of  music.  But  this  admission  immediately  fixes 
the  sphere  of  strength  of  the  pet  popular  theory:  it  is 
relatively  correct,  not  absolutely.  And  relatively  correct 
only  within  narrow  limits,  inasmuch  as,  even  in  the  field 
of  opera,  improvements  do  not  progress  chronologically 
in  all  eternity.  Otherwise,  again  the  absurd  conclusion 
would  force  itself  on  us  that  some  future  opera  composer 
would  produce  better  operas  than  Wagner,  not  because 
he  had  the  necessary  genius,  but  because  he  came  after 
Wagner.  Or,  looking  into  the  past,  are  Mozart's  operas 
really  better  than  Gluck's,,  and  Wagner's  better  than 
Mozart's?  Some  people  do  not  hesitate  to  say  so,  but 
they  put  on  the  scales  not  only  the  actual  musical-dra- 
matic values,  but  also  the  taste  of  their  own  times,  not 
to  mention  individual  preferences.  But  changing  taste 
is  not  necessarily  a  criterion  of  value.  Once  an  art-form 
has  passed  the  experimental  stage,  as  in  Monteverdi's 
case,  and  has  attained  maturity,  as  with  Gluck  or  Mo- 
zart, the  fact  that  a  later  generation,  and  naturally  so, 
prefers  the  works  of  its  own  times,  has  precious  little 
to  do  with  the  actual  comparative  value.  Gluck's  "Iphi- 
genia  in  Tauris,"  Mozart's  "Don  Giovanni,"  Verdi's 
"Falstaff"  and  Wagner's  "Tristan  und  Isolde"  are 
merely  different  manifestations  of  mature  genius  in  a 


MUSIC  AND  PROGRESS 17 

mature  form  of  art  at  different  periods,  but  one  is  not 
better  than  the  other. 

Exactly  the  same  arguments  prevail,  if  we  approach 
the  field  of  oratorio,  symphony,  chamber  music,  song, 
etc.  I,  for  one,  do  not  concede  for  a  moment  Beet- 
hoven's symphonies  or  quartets  to  be  better  than 
certain  really  inspired  mature  works  by  Haydn  and 
Mozart,  or  those  of  Brahms  and  Cesar  Franck  to  be 
better  than  those  of  Beethoven;  though  occasionally, 
when  I  feel  the  fascination  of  our  times,  they  appeal  to 
me  more  strongly  than  those  of  Beethoven,  in  whom, 
after  all,  a  different  "Zeitgeist"  was  at  work.  An  expe- 
rience, which  many  worshippers  at  the  shrine  of  the 
classics  will  share  with  me. 

Even  in  the  matter  of  orchestration,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  the  theory  here  attacked  is  sound.  It  would  be 
carrying  poverty  to  China  to  deny  that  Richard  Strauss 
and  Debussy  are  supreme  masters  of  the  orchestral 
palette,  but  does  their  orchestra  really  sound  more  beau- 
tiful than  that  of  Mozart?  Or,  not  to  confuse  the  fine 
distinctions  which  alone  prevent  such  discussions  from 
leading  us  astray,  does  it  sound  more  perfect?  By  vir- 
tue of  his  genius  Mozart  employed  exactly  that  orches- 
tral medium  which  fitted  his  ideas;  otherwise  he  would 
not  have  been  a  genius.  No  later  master  could  essentially 
improve  on  his  orchestration.  A  re-instrumentation 
would  produce  a  glaring  anachronism  and  would  de- 
stroy the  perfect  balance  between  the  style  and  spirit 
of  his  ideas  and  the  proper  vehicle  for  their  expres- 
sion. In  detail  such  an  attempt  might  sound  more  beau- 
tiful, more  opulent;  but  the  whole,  as  a  work  of  art 
perfect  in  itself,  would  suffer.  On  the  other  hand,  an 
equally  painful  anachronism  and  stylistic  caricature 
would  be  the  result,  if  Mozart  returned  to  life  and  re- 
instrumentated  Strauss's  "Heldenleben"  in  the  manner 
of  the  Jupiter  Symphony.  Undoubtedly,  Mozart's  suc- 
cessors have  expanded  the  orchestral  possibilities,  have 


18 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

enriched  the  palette,  have  introduced  new  principles  of 
orchestral  coloring  and  have  given  us  a  world  of  orches- 
tral beauty  quite  beyond  even  a  genius  like  Mozart. 
But  there  the  comparison  ceases  to  be  fair;  the  fitness 
of  things,  and  "progress,"  become  incommensurable.  The 
truth  practically  is,  that  Mozart's  instrumentation  fits 
his  ideas  beyond  improvement,  just  as  Wagner's  instru- 
mentation fits  Wagner's  ideas. 

The  same  truth  applies  more  or  less  to  Mozart's  con- 
temporaries and  predecessors;  for  instance,  Gluck, 
Haydn,  Handel,  Bach.  Indeed,  he  who  once  has  heard 
Bach's  orchestra  sound  as  it  should  sound,  that  is,  with 
a  well-preserved  harpsichord  as  backbone  of  the  whole, 
the  wind-instruments  doubled  and  trebled  according  to 
the  esthetic  tenets  of  his  age,  and  other  lost  traditions 
revived  (to  which  the  legendary  lack  of  dynamic  subtle- 
ties certainly  did  not  belong),  will  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  Johann  Sebastian  Bach  was  as  great  a 
virtuoso  on  his  orchestra  as  Richard  Strauss  is  on  his. 
Because  it  sounds  different  and  somewhat  unfamiliar 
to  us,  does  not  imply  that  it  is  less  beautiful,  and  if 
two  works  of  art  sound  equally  beautiful,  one  cannot 
possibly  be  better  than  the  other.  The  trouble  merely 
is  that  we  so  seldom  have  occasion  to  hear  the  old 
masters  properly.  So  many  conductors  shut  their  eyes 
with  contempt  born  of  ignorance  to  the  plainest  his- 
torical demands  of  style,  disregard  all  proper  proportion 
between  the  different  groups  of  the  orchestra,  play  the 
old  works  without  instruments  called  for  in  the  score, 
or  smother  the  few  wind-instruments  under  an  ava- 
lanche of  strings,  and  then  lay  it  at  the  door  of  the  old 
masters  if  their  orchestra  sounds  primitive,  crude,  un- 
balanced and  queer. 

From  whatever  quarter  the  chronological  chronic-im- 
provement theory  is  approached,  it  fails  and  must  fail 
because  it  does  not  take  into  account  that  each  age  is 
confronted  by  different  problems  which  the  genius  of  the 


MUSIC  AND  PROGRESS 19 

age  solves  at  the  psychological  moment.  Once  solved, 
this  particular  problem  defies  further  solution.  Thus 
Palestrina  created  works  of  art  which  neither  Bach  nor 
Wagner  nor  the  unborn  masters  of  the  future  could 
duplicate  in  the  same  self-sufficient  perfection;  and,  of 
course,  vice  versa. 

And  the  lesson  to  be  learned  of  this  protest  against  a 
very  sentimental  and  attractive  but  radically  wrong 
theory?  It  leads  to  a  coquettish,  conceited  over-estima- 
tion not  of  the  present  only,  but,  far  worse,  to  a  wilful 
neglect  of  the  past,  of  the  immediate  past,  even,  and 
thereby  becomes  detrimental  to  the  best  interests  of  our 
art.  That  a  sincere  admiration  for  the  beauties  of  the 
music  of  to-day  and  to-morrow  may  travel  brotherly 
with  a  sincere  admiration  for  the  beauties  of  the  music 
of  yesterday,  has  been  abundantly  proved,  but  what  is 
possible  for  a  few  is  possible  for  many.  Indeed,  this 
tolerant  attitude  should  be  made  the  paramount  issue 
in  the  development  of  musical  taste. 

In  the  fine  arts,  this  catholicity  of  taste  is  recognized 
as  a  fundamental  principle.  There  nobody,  unless  he  be 
a  crank,  operates  with  the  term  of  "better"  from  a 
shaky  chronological  observatory.  The  pictures,  the 
statues,  the  palaces,  themselves  bear  testimony  too 
potent  against  any  such  attempt.  Of  course,  the  fine 
arts  have  this  enviable  advantage,  that,  for  instance,  a 
picture  needs  but  a  wall  and  a  nail  to  speak  for  itself, 
and  to  be  permanently  before  the  public  eye,  whereas 
in  music  the  ways  and  means  for  public  utterance  are 
so  costly  and  complicated  that  a  similar  immortality 
becomes  a  physical  impossibility.  The  nearest  approach 
to  the  art  museum  we  have  is  in  methodically  developed 
musical  libraries,  though  they  furnish  only  a  very  poor 
substitute,  as  the  scores  are  but  the  shadows  of  music. 
Yet  music  possesses  one  advantage  over  the  fine  arts  for 
this  very  reason :  the  bulk  of  the  works  of  every  age  and 
of  every  art  are  monuments  of  mediocrity  and  not  worthy 


20 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

of  preservation.  In  the  fine  arts,  thousands  of  these 
mediocrities  and  atrocities  are  dragged  ruthlessly 
through  the  centuries  together  with  the  works  of  lasting 
art-value.  In  music,  the  survival  of  the  fit  and  fittest 
is  simplified  by  the  otherwise  deplorable  difficulty  of 
utterance.  This  granted,  the  question  arises:  Do  we 
make  the  best  of  this  advantage?  Do  we  systematically 
build,  as  it  were,  dams  and  dikes  to  regulate  the  mael- 
strom of  devastation  and  endeavor  to  save  what  should 
be  saved?    Hardly! 

It  is  not  so  much  a  question  of  revival  as  of  survival. 
Our  musical  life  is  as  yet  too  poorly  organized  to  keep 
somewhere  and  somehow,  in  imitation  of  the  art  mu- 
seum, at  least  a  modest  selection  of  the  representative 
music  of  all  ages,  nations  and  schools  before  the  public 
and  the  musicians  themselves.  This  dream  of  a  museum 
of  music  rather  than  of  scores  may  yet  be  realized,  but 
until  this  "Stilbildungschule"  becomes  feasible  (the 
problem  is  not  at  all  so  difficult  or  costly  as  it  looks), 
we  should  attempt  the  next  best  thing.  If  a  work  com- 
posed thirty  years  ago,  no  matter  whether  Mendelssohn, 
Schumann,  Wagner,  Liszt  or  Berlioz  stood  sponsor,  was 
then  really  a  beautiful  work  of  art,  it  is  still  beautiful 
to-day,  regardless  of  changes  in  "taste,"  and  it  deserves 
to  survive  and  to  be  heard.  If  changes  in  "taste" 
militate  against  the  survival,  then  it  behooves  those  who 
shape  taste  to  force  the  idea  of  taste  into  the  proper 
channel.  They  must  consistently  and  unceasingly 
preach  the  doctrine  that  beauty  is  eternal  and  good 
taste  not  synonymous  with  fickle  fashion  or  fads.  Ideas 
(in  the  Platonic  sense)  are  the  real  and  only  moving 
forces.  Once  rooted  in  the  soil  of  public  principle,  they 
become  irresistible  and  their  growth  projects,  as  it  were, 
all  the  latent  consequences  into  our  daily  life.  Accord- 
ingly, once  the  principle  that  musical  beauty  of  any 
school  or  style  should  be  made  to  survive,  underlies  our 
art-conduct,  the  ways  and  means  for  this  survival  will 


MUSIC  AND  PROGRESS 21 

present  themselves  automatically  in  spite  of  all  obstacles. 
The  popular  chronic-improvement  theory  is,  unfor- 
tunately, one  of  these  obstacles.  It  plainly  tends  to 
impoverish  rather  than  to  enrich  us.  Nor  does  the 
opportunistic  attitude  of  those  who  pride  themselves  on 
their  practical  views  of  life  and  smile  at  us  idealists, 
lead  to  tangible  reforms.  If  people  crave  for  the  "better," 
they  should  not  seek  it  at  the  esthetic  notion  counter, 
but  where  improvements  are  possible  and  necessary — 
in  the  organization  and  development  of  our  musical  life. 
Let  them  study,  unbiased  by  personal  preferences,  as 
easiest  accessible,  the  piano  and  song  literature  of  the 
past  fifty  years,  select  what  is  unmistakably  good,  and 
then  look  for  the  names  of  the  composers  and  the  titles 
of  the  pieces  on  the  current  concert  programs,  in  the 
studios  of  the  teachers,  in  the  homes  of  music-lovers. 
They  will  be  amazed  at  the  starvation  rations  of  our 
musical  diet,  and  they  will  be  compelled  to  admit  that 
"wilful  neglect  of  the  past"  is  more  than  the  pessimistic 
slogan  of  cranky  antiquarians  and  critics. 


NATIONAL  TONE-SPEECH 
VERSUS  VOLAPUK— WHICH? 


NATIONAL  TONE-SPEECH 
VERSUS  VOLAPUK— WHICH? 

{"Die  Musik,"  1903) 

The  irradiation  of  national  character  yields  what  we 
are  wont  to  call  nationality  in  music.  This  is  essentially 
different  from  so-called  "local  color,"  which  is  often 
merely  a  well-weighed  spice  and  an  effective  device  in 
art,  even  in  the  hand  of  a  foreigner;  whereas  the  former 
pervades  the  artist's  very  flesh  and  blood.  Without 
overt  action  on  his  part,  it  lends  his  individuality  a 
certain  communistic  tinge,  and  eludes  superficial  imi- 
tation. For  music  is  no  cosmopolitan  growth,  flourishing 
beyond  time  and  space.  And  the  musician  likewise  is 
rooted  in  Mother  Earth.  He  is,  like  every  individual, 
the  product  of  environment  and  education,  the  more 
or  less  pronounced  representative  of  his  people.  More- 
over, between  the  peoples  and,  to  go  a  step  further, 
between  the  races,  there  exist  typical  differences. 

Of  this  fact  our  daily  experience,  and  comparative 
folklore,  permit  no  doubt  to  arise.  An  Italian's  gestures, 
even  at  a  distance,  strongly  contrast  with  those  of  a 
German.  Their  temperaments,  whose  reflection  the 
gestures  are,  have  equally  distinguishable  characteris- 
tics. For  example,  the  German  Schwung  is  by  no  means 
equivalent  to  the  Italian  slancio,  and  both  are  distinctly 
dissimilar  from  the  elan  of  the  Frenchman  or  the  cold- 
blooded dash  and  go  of  the  American.  The  strange 
veering  from  melancholy  to  fierce  passion,  a  national 
trait  of  the  Russians,  may  have  a  pendant  among  other 
peoples,  but  its  full  equivalent  is  unknown  to  me. 

Some  are  fond  of  confuting  the  above  considerations 
by  pointing  out  that  no  people  has  remained  racially 
pure,  and  that  within  the  various  peoples  themselves 

25 


26 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

there  subsist  remarkable  differences  in  character. 
True  enough,  a  genuine  Bavarian  is  not  easily  mistaken 
for  a  Pomeranian,  and  still  less  a  genuine  Irishman  for 
an  Englishman;  but  with  such  arguments  one  does  not 
simplify  the  problem,  but  complicates  it,  together  with 
all  its  inferences.  It  may  be  said  that,  in  general, 
political  connections,  mixed  marriages,  common  lan- 
guage, education  and  interests,  leave  their  various 
impress  on  nations,  so  that  dissimilarities  within  the 
political  boundaries  merely  make  the  impression  of 
dialects  (if  I  may  say  so)  of  the  folk-character.  That 
the  given  folk-character  may  show,  on  analysis,  a 
mixture  of  characters,  makes  little  difference.  By  out- 
siders it  is  not  apprehended  as  a  mixture,  but  as  a 
unity,  just  as  green  is,  psychologically,  a  color  in  itself, 
being  a  mixture  of  yellow  and  blue  only  for  the  analytical 
mind.  The  total  impression  naturally  depends  on  the 
stronger  or  weaker  admixture  of  the  several  colors; 
thus  the  folk-character  of  the  United  States  has  an 
Anglo-Saxon  stamp,  for  the  reason  that  among  its 
heterogeneous  elements  the  Anglo-Saxon  decidedly  pre- 
dominates. 

If  these  things  are  of  significance  for  the  entire  outward 
and  inward  life  of  the  nations,  they  are  so  for  music,  too. 

It  does  not  do  to  speak  of  an  international  musical 
language  just  because  the  nations  which  come  into 
contact  with  our  musical  life  use  the  same  instruments, 
the  same  scale-degrees — in  brief,  the  same  raw  material. 
Painters  also  work  with  the  same  material  everywhere, 
and  still  a  Frenchman  expresses  himself  differently 
from  a  German.  The  paintings  of  a  Besnard,  even 
without  his  signature,  could  not  dissemble  their  French 
origin,  and  those  of  a  Franz  Stuck  would  infallibly  bear 
the  mark:  Made  in  Germany.  Not  even  similarity 
of  technique  or  similarity  in  construction  can  obliterate 
the  folk-character  which  pervades  the  artist's  indi- 
viduality. 


NATIONAL   TONE-SPEECH   VERSUS    VOLAPUK       27 

Attention  has  been  called — and  not  by  the  shallowest 
of  our  connoisseurs — to  peculiar  characteristics  in  the 
works  of  our  Semitic  masters.  There  be  those  who 
smile  at  this  view,  and  would  seek  to  trace  its  source 
to  studious  race-hatred.  Their  ridicule  is  ill-directed. 
When  the  sounding  symbols  of  the  inner  life — melody, 
harmony,  rhythm,  and  the  rest — pour  forth  from  the 
folk-soul  of  the  Magyar  in  form-types  which  are  seem- 
ingly controlled  by  psychic  laws,  and  which  affect  the 
Teuton  or  the  Latin  as  foreign,  why  not  the  same 
with  the  Semite?  However  environment  and  artistic 
training  may  have  overlaid  the  colors,  it  were  strange 
and  regrettable  did  they  not  show  through  here  and  there. 

The  neo-Russians  reproach  Tschaikowsky  with  for- 
eignism.  They  look  on  him,  in  contrast  to  Mussorgsky 
and  others,  as  no  true  representative  of  their  nation. 
Now,  Tschaikowsky  was  no  musical  ultra-patriot,  no 
tinker  of  problems ;  he  did  not  seek  to  parade  his  Russian- 
ism;  and,  nevertheless,  his  predilection  for  the  Italians 
and  Mozart  cannot  disguise  his  Russian  origin  from 
us  occidentals.  We  (as  Riemann  puts  it)  find  in  him 
a  lyrically  gifted,  genuinely  musical  nature,  but  at  the 
same  time  a  good  native  Russian. 

The  Bohemian  String-Quartet  affords  another  instance. 
It  has  been  noticed  by  many  that  these  four  artists 
give  a  Slavic  coloring  to  all  the  works  they  play.  While 
they  interpret  Bohemian  and  Russian  masters  with  an 
inimitable  realism  and  truth  to  nature,  their  repro- 
duction of  our  classics  has  the  effect  of  an  exceedingly 
beautiful,  charmful  translation  from  the  German  into 
the  Slavic.  Under  their  hands,  Beethoven  becomes  a  kind 
of  Dvo?ak.  They  themselves  are  probably  unconscious 
of  this.  They  cannot  do  otherwise,  and  any  attempt 
at  Teutonizing  would  be  wrecked  on  natural  laws  over 
which  they  have  no  control.  The  same  naturally 
applies  to  the  interpretation  of  Italian  or  Russian 
works  by  Germans  or  Frenchmen. 


28 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Any  one  trying  to  treat  this  problem  in  extenso,  as 
far  as  heterogeneous  races  may  be  considered,  would 
constitute  himself  an  Apostle  of  Commonplaces.  The 
champions  of  an  international  musical  speech  must, 
therefore, .  confine  themselves  to  Middle  and  Western 
Europe,  if  their  theory  (which  is  also  their  ideal)  is  to 
remain  rational.  This  would  limit  us  to  those  countries 
which  for  centuries  have  been  continuously  inter- 
changing their  musical  ideas. 

Now,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  England,  the  Nether- 
lands, France,  Italy,  Germany,  etc.,  have  had  a  so 
nearly  similar  schooling  and  have  so  mutually  fructified 
each  other  that  their  individuality  has  not  emerged 
uncompromised  by  this  manifold  intermingling.  But 
there  is  a  vast  difference  betwixt  a  blending  and  an 
obliteration  of  characteristic  traits.  So  long  as  peoples 
differ  one  from  the  other  in  all  remaining  arts,  we 
cannot  for  a  moment  suppose  that  the  art  of  music 
will  lose  its  diversified  physiognomy — more  especially 
not,  so  long  as  folk-songs  present  such  strong  contrasts 
as  they  now  do,  and  illustrate  the  fact  that  the  char- 
acteristics of  language  help  to  shape  directly  (and  in 
the  case  of  instrumental  music  indirectly)  the  national 
characteristics  of  music.  It  seems  to  me  that  what  has 
really  become  international  is,  at  bottom,  only  the  tech- 
nique of  our  art-music.  Beyond  this,  one  should  not  sur- 
render himself  to  any  acoustic  illusion.  And  how  little, 
in  certain  cases,  this  international  technique  is  able  to 
bridge  over  the  antagonisms  and  dissimilarities  between 
the  national  souls,  we  can  see  in  Mozart.  The  course  of 
his  development  made  him,  in  many  matters,  the 
descendant  of  Italian  masters,  for  which  reason  overly 
clever  persons  set  him  down  for  an  Italian  composer. 
But  then,  how  does  it  happen  that  even  to  this  day  he 
has  never  gained  a  firm  footing  in  Italy,  despite  his 
Italian  airs?  Is  it  because  he  was  unworthy  a  triumphal 
progress  across  the  Alps?     Is  it  because  he  is  a  true 


NATIONAL   TONE-SPEECH   VERSUS    VOLAPUK      29 

German  in  Italian  garb,  and  because  the  Italians 
penetrate  his  partial  disguise  and  feel  that  he  is  not 
one  of  themselves,  that  he  strikes  chords  not  in  con- 
sonance with  their  character?  This  last  I  believe  to 
be  true,  and  that  the  striking  contradiction  between 
the  external  and  internal  expression  of  his  Italian 
operas,  in  particular,  have  conditioned  Mozart's  status 
in  Italy. 

So,  twist  and  turn  as  one  will,  the  theory  of  an  in- 
ternational musical  speech  is  not  tenable.  And  with 
this  disappears  its  qualification  as  an  ideal  aim,  and 
thus  its  applicability  to  our  future  musical  activities. 
And  should  any  one  invoke  the  aid  of  music-history, 
with  the  assertion  that  the  branches  grafted  on  the 
tree  of  music  have  borne  such  an  abundance  of  good 
fruits  during  the  last  five  centuries,  that  their  continuance 
in  bearing  is  a  necessity  for  musical  progress,  he  is 
building  a  castle  in  cloudland.  For  such  musical 
grafting  has  done  at  least  as  much  harm  as  good.  The 
good  (as  we  have  pointed  out)  consists  in  the  interchange 
of  technical  acquirements;  the  harm,  in  a  foreignism 
which  disintegrates  what  it  touches. 

So  it  came  that  the  musical  life  of  Germany  in  the 
eighteenth  century  presented  a  pitiable  spectacle.  The 
Italians  were  lords  of  the  land.  Musicians  and  public 
alike  had  to  dance  as  they  piped.  It  was  the  Golden 
Age  for  composers  who  not  only  learned  from  the  Italians, 
but  sedulously  aped  them.  The  offspring  of  the  German 
Muse  led  the  life  of  Cinderella.  But  the  fairy  tale  came 
true!  The  former  kind  vanished  with  the  fashion;  while 
for  those  masters  who,  although  acquiring  the  foreign 
technique,  still  stood  fast-rooted  in  their  native  soil,  the 
day  of  resurrection  dawned  slowly,  but  surely.  And 
first  of  all  for  Johann  Sebastian  Bach!  Yet  even  his 
works  are  not  always  pure  in  style — even  he  sometimes 
too  greatly  favored  the  fashion.  However  strongly  his 
arias,  for  example,  are  imbued  with  his  genius,  they  are 


30 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

trimmed  according  to  the  French  or  Italian  mode.  This 
robs  them  in  good  part  of  their  vitality.  They  form 
the — comparatively — weaker  portion  of  his  works.  They 
are  less  satisfactory  in  effect,  because  less  genuine,  than 
the  arias  of  many  contemporary  Italians,  who  in  other 
matters  seem  almost  like  dwarfs  beside  Bach.  This 
should  furnish  food  for  reflection! 

Then  consider  the  history  of  English  music.  Down 
to  Purcell,  a  flourishing  period,  during  which  the  Eng- 
lish masters,  despite  Italian  influences,  reflect  the 
character  of  their  nation.  Hereupon  follows  the  Han- 
delian  cult;  and  since  then  England  has  surrendered 
herself  to  the  leading-strings  of  all  imaginable  outlandish 
idols.  Almost  two  centuries  of  an  unexampled  musical 
revelry,  and,  at  the  same  time,  two  centuries  during 
which  the  creative  powers  of  English  composers  have 
lain  fallow.  Is  there  no  internal  nexus  between  these 
two  phenomena,  no  mutual  conformity  of  cause  and 
effect?  Is  it  not  significant,  that,  since  an  understanding 
of  the  situation  has  been  making  headway  for  some 
decades,  the  signs  of  a  creative  renaissance  have  plainly 
been  multiplying  in  England? 

From  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
Italians  and  Germans  have  been  contending  for  the 
leadership  in  musical  affairs.  For  the  last  fifty  years 
the  Germans  have  undeniably  been  victorious  along 
the  whole  line.  So  much  so  that  Italy,  already  dependent 
on  the  French,  has  had  to  bear  the  German  yoke  into 
the  bargain.  Many  Italian  masters  know  their  Wagner 
and  their  Brahms — not  to  mention  Bach,  Beethoven, 
and  Schumann — with  a  thoroughness  that  might  well 
astonish  their  German  colleagues.  But  do  not  think 
for  a  moment  that  these  musicians  seek  their  salvation 
by  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Germans.  Imitation, 
for  them,  is  but  a  means  to  an  end.  And  their  endeavor 
is  to  raise  Italian  music  from  the  slough  of  obsolete 
and  outworn  forms  of  expression.    Verdi's  famous  and 


NATIONAL   TONE-SPEECH   VERSUS    VOLAPUK      31 

redemptive  phrase,  "Torniamo  all'  antico!"  is  the 
watchword  of  all  clearheaded  Italians.  Whoever  views 
their  longing  for  redemption  from  the  Teutomania  due 
to  conditions  now  prevailing,  as  an  outgrowth  of  vanity, 
is  sadly  mistaken.  They  enjoin  recourse  to  the  early 
Italian  masters  in  the  home,  school  and  concert-hall 
as  to  a  perpetual  fountain  of  youth.  They  perceive 
that  these  old  masters  are  much  closer  to  their  native 
temperament  than  the  contemporary  transalpine  masters. 
So  here  again  it  is  recognized  that  cosmopolitanism  is  a 
source  of  progress  for  the  technique  only,  but  the  bane 
of  free  expression.  Their  general  aim  is  to  heal  music 
from  within  outward  by  a  treatment  like  that  of  the 
Young-Italian  School  of  Poetry,  which,  under  the  lead 
of  the  lofty  Giosue  Carducci,  is  studying  the  poets  of 
the  trecento  and  quattrocento  with  burning  zeal,  in 
order  to  rid  Italian  literature  at  last  of  Gallicisms  and 
other  impurities.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that  these 
efforts  have  already  been  crowned  with  success. 

When  one,  finally,  turns  his  eyes  towards  the  United 
States,  the  truth  of  all  these  pronouncements  will 
become  painfully  evident. 

For  over  one  hundred  years  the  United  States  has 
been  the  happy  hunting-ground  of  European  musicians; 
not  merely  of  those  who  emigrated  hither,  but  of  those 
who  remain  with  us  for  a  year  or  more  to  gather  in 
gold  and  glory.  English,  French,  Italian  and  German 
musicians  have  contributed  more  than  the  native 
artists  toward  the  evolution,  in  a  surprisingly  short 
time,  of  an  abounding  musical  activity;  not  working  in 
succession,  but  side  by  side,  except  that  now  and  then 
the  centre  of  gravity  of  their  influence  was  shifted. 
To-day  they  still  play  the  principal  role,  and  in  most 
branches  of  musical  art  they  have  pushed  their  native 
colleagues  far  into  the  background.  And  first  of  all, 
the  music-teachers  have  grafted  their  European  naturel 
upon  our  music-making  youth.     Not  only  that;  legions 


32 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

of  young  Americans  migrate  to  the  European  music- 
schools,  and  this  usually  at  an  age  when,  musically  at 
least,  their  typical  Americanism  can  be  (and  is)  eradi- 
cated. What  follows?  The  United  States,  as  far  as 
musical  matters  go,  is  still  in  great  part  a  European 
colony.  So  here  the  theory  of  an  international  musical 
language  has  been  reduced  to  practice.  Now,  if  such 
a  language  were  the  alpha  and  omega  of  the  music  of 
the  future,  we  should  have  ready  to  hand  a  touchstone 
of  its  advantages,  and  the  Americans  would  have  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  their  musical  life. 

But  they  are  not  at  all  satisfied.  Our  musicians,  aside 
from  those  who  themselves  are  Europeans,  groan 
beneath  the  European  yoke.  They  see  with  dismay 
what  the  systematic  transfusion  of  European  blood  has 
accomplished — a  stunted  musical  growth  under  a  gilded 
exterior. 

Our  architects,  our  painters  and,  in  particular,  our 
sculptors,  have  won  admiration  throughout  the  world 
because  their  mastership  is  different  in  essentials  from 
that  of  their  professional  brethren  beyond  the  ocean. 

Our  poets,  like  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  Emerson,  Whittier, 
James  Russell  Lowell  and  Walt  Whitman  are  typically 
American  ornaments  of  universal  literature,  and  already 
exercise  an  invigorating  influence  on  poetry  in  Europe. 

These  artists  have  sent  down  their  roots  deep  into  the 
national  soul,  and  Americans  regard  them  as  towering 
bulwarks  of  the  national  life.  Quite  otherwise  with 
the  musicians.  The  people  do  not  consider  them  with 
equal  respect.  Music,  in  the  popular  mind,  is  rather 
an  imported  article  of  fashion  than  an  art  which,  on  a 
par  with  poetry,  can  and  should  ennoble,  instruct  and 
invigorate  a  nation. 

To  a  European  it  seems  fairly  unbelievable  that  only 
a  small  minority  of  our  singers  are  able  to  sing  con- 
vincingly in  the  native  tongue.  Why,  indeed,  should 
they  be  able  to?     Most  of  them  have  been  drilled  to 


NATIONAL   TONE-SPEECH   VERSUS   VOLAPUK      33 

sing  in  Italian,  or  French,  or  German,  only.  The  law 
of  supply  and  demand  so  decides  it.  For  our  opera,  in 
particular,  is  a  cosmopolitan  omnium  gatherum.  To 
hear  and  to  enjoy  the  art  of  English  song,  one  must 
patronize  the  operetta;  for  all  attempts  at  an  English 
opera  have  either  been  shipwrecked  or  forced  down  to 
the  level  of  mediocrity,  because  the  majority  of  our 
theatre-goers  care  less  to  understand  what  is  sung  than 
to  intoxicate  themselves  with  the  charm  of  dearly- 
purchased  voices. 

But  the  worst  of  it  is  that  we  have  no  composer 
whom  we  can  call  genuinely  and  consistently  American 
in  point  of  style;  not  one  who  sets  the  ideals  of  his 
people  to  music  as  the  poets  have  done  in  their  verse. 
Though  certain  writers — like  Mr.  Hughes  in  his  fas- 
cinating book  "Contemporary  American  Composers" 
— may  maintain  the  contrary,  their  wish  is  father  to 
the  thought.  Our  best  composers  do  actually  stand  on 
a  level  with  the  European  in  technique,  to  be  sure,  but 
we  too  seldom  remark,  by  the  mode  and  method  with 
which  they  take  hold  of  and  elaborate  their  themes, 
that  they  are  not  the  bondsmen  of  Europe  rather  than 
Americans  bearing  themselves  independently  and  natur- 
ally.1 International  reminiscences  swarm  in  their 
scores,  and  the  individuality  that  makes  itself  felt  here 
and  there  often  struggles  in  vain  to  break  through  the 
jungle  of  acquired  formulas.  It  is  not  lack  of  talent, 
but  the  calamitous,  blood-wasting  inoculation  of  an 
international  musical  speech,  which  has,  for  the  time 
being,  made  it  impossible  for  Americans  to  give  the 
world    masters   like   Brahms,    Bizet,   Tschaikowsky   or 

i  Is  this  statement  substantially  less  true  A.  D.  1916  than  A.  D.  1903  when 
I  wrote  it?  I  shall  accept  an  affirmative  answer  only  when  the  younger  generation 
of  American  composers  produces,  not  as  a  rara  avis,  but  as  a  matter  of 
habit,  pieces  so  thoroughly  American  in  spirit  as  Mr.  Chadwick's  "A  Vagrom 
Ballad"  in  his  "Four  Symphonic  Sketches."  But  this  gem  of  American  musical 
humor,  worthy  of  a  Mark  Twain,  was  composed  in  1896,  though  not  published 
until  1907!  If  certain  of  our  younger  composers  brush  aside  such  a  piece  as 
"old  fogyish,"  they  are  welcome  to  this  opinion  as  they  are  to  their  naive  preferen- 
tial belief  in  the  efficacy  of  French  as  against  German  measles  as  a  musical 
beautifier. 


34 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Sibelius.  Europeans  have  a  right,  in  a  way,  to  look 
down  upon  our  composers.  Eclecticism  is  merely  a 
euphemism  for  pilfering.  It  is  demoralizing,  does  not 
carry  far,  and  therefore  is  not  an  element  of  strength, 
but  of  weakness. 

Of  this  some  of  our  musicians  and  writers  on  music 
are  well  aware.  Their  battle-cry,  "Cut  loose  from 
Europe!"  is  of  no  new  date.  It  has  echoed  and  reechoed 
for  years,  and  is  growing  ever  louder.  Precisely  as  in 
Italy,  this  yearning  after  a  music  of  and  for  the  American 
people  is  no  creature  of  national  hysteria,  but  the 
outcome  of  serious  reflection,  the  result  of  comparative 
musico-historical  study,  of  a  wisdom  born  of  sad 
experience.  Italy,  however,  has  the  better  of  it.  She 
can  draw  fresh  life  from  her  glorious  past,  while  the 
Americans,  having  none,  are  obliged  to  lay  the  foun- 
dations for  a  place  of  unquestioned  power  in  the  music 
of  the  future. 

The  practical  application  of  all  these  considerations? 
It  is  simple  and  universally  binding.  Cultivate  the 
good  new  masters  of  every  nationality,  so  as  not  to  fall 
hopelessly  behind;  also,  the  good  old  masters,  so  as  to 
make  timely  escape  from  possible  blind  alleys;  and  take 
root  in  your  native  soil,  that  you  may  grow,  and  bring 
music  so  close  to  the  hearts  of  your  people  that  it  shall 
watch  over  them  as  a  mother  over  her  child.  Enjoy, 
compare,  learn!  But,  of  set  purpose,  cut  the  ground 
from  under  the  feet  of  a  would-be  cosmopolitan  art. 
For  such  art  is  merely  the  fetish  of  a  spineless  mediocrity. 
(Translated  by  Theodore  Baker) 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR 
FIRST  PRESIDENTS 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST 
PRESIDENTS 

(New  Music  Review,  1907) 

For  generations  the  lives  of  George  Washington,  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  have  been  described  mainly 
from  the  standpoint  of  men  of  public  affairs.  In  reading 
such  biographies  the  conclusion  «is  almost  forced  on  us 
that  our  first  Presidents  took  interest  in  nothing  but 
politics.  How  absurd  such  a  notion  is  appears  from 
the  several  "true"  lives  that  have  come  to  light  in 
recent  years.  Indeed,  the  lesser  sides  of  their  character, 
their  private  life,  their  fancies  and  foibles,  must  be 
made  to  frame  the  historical  picture  if  we  would  feel 
ourselves  in  the  presence  of  human  beings  instead  of 
political  automatons.  A  modest  nook  in  the  biographical 
edifice  should  be  reserved  for  music.  To  be  sure,  it 
will  not  be  filled  with  the  manuscripts  of  concertos  or 
of  operas  written  in  competition  with  crowned  com- 
posers. The  musical  items  to  be  gathered  from  the 
writings  of  our  first  Presidents  and  from  other  historical 
sources  are  few.  Yet  they  are  sufficient  to  throw  in- 
teresting sidelights  on  our  early  musical  history. 

Of  the  three,  John  Adams  seems  to  have  been  the 
least  artistically  inclined.  At  least,  he  himself  assured 
Mrs.  Mercy  Warren  (1795)  that  he  had  no  pleasure  or 
amusement  which  possessed  any  charms  for  him: 
"balls,  assemblies,  concerts,  cards,  horses,  dogs  never 
engaged  any  part  of  my  [his]  attention  .  .  .  business 
alone.  .  .  .  ;"  and  Peter  Chardon,  a  young  lawyer, 
won  his  respect  because  "his  thoughts  are  not  employed 
on  songs  and  girls,  nor  his  time  on  flutes,  fiddles,  con- 
certs and  card  tables;  he  will  make  something."  But 
this  was  in  1758,  when  the  Squire  of  Braintree  had  not 

37 


38 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

yet  developed  those  aristocratic  tendencies  for  which 
the  Republicans  in  after  years,  without  much  reason, 
censured  him.  The  very  diary  in  which  the  entry 
stands  belies  his  self-portrait  as  presented  to  Mrs. 
Warren.  With  an  increasing  fondness  and  appreciation 
of  culinary  pleasures,  his  ears  became  susceptible  to 
the  charms  of  music. 

In  1773  (August  30)  he  allowed  himself  to  be  "en- 
tertained" "upon  the  spinet"  by  two  young  ladies,  and 
five  years  later,  at  Bordeaux,  on  his  way  to  Paris,  he 
acquired  his  first  taste  of  opera.  Says  the  future  Presi- 
dent on  April  1,  1778:  "Went  to  the  opera,  where  the 
scenery,  the  dancing,  the  music,  afforded  me  a  very 
cheerful,  sprightly  amusement,  having  never  seen  any- 
thing of  the  kind  before." 

Again:  "The  music  and  dancing  were  very  fine" 
when  he  and  Franklin  visited  the  Paris  Opera  House 
on  May  19,  1778;  and  by  the  year  1782  his  critical 
instinct  had  become  so  keen  that  he  expressed  his 
satisfaction  with  the  "good"  music  upon  hearing 
Gretry's  "Le  Jugement  de  Midas"  at  The  Hague. 

Perhaps  there  was  method  in  Adams's  madness  when 
putting  concerts  and  dogs  into  the  same  category  of 
nuisances,  but  leaving  opera  out;  for  of  the  famous 
Concert  Spirituel  at  the  Royal  Gardens  in  Paris  which 
he  attended  in  1778  he  has  nothing  to  say  in  his  diary 
except  that  there  "was  an  infinite  number  of  gentle- 
men and  ladies  walking." 

Of  one  kind  of  music,  John  Adams  was  genuinely 
fond — church  music.  To  the  several  quotations  from 
his  diary  to  that  effect  which  Mr.  Brooks  has  printed 
in  his  book  on  "Olden  Time  Music,"  several  more 
might  be  added,  and  when  it  was  not  psalmody  "in 
the  old  way,  as  we  call  it — all  the  drawling,  quavering 
discord  in  the  world,"  as  at  the  old  Presbyterian  Society 
in  New  York,  he  generally  used  the  word  "sweet"  to 
express  his  satisfaction.     Two  entries,   not  given  by 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS  39 

Brooks,  may  be  of  interest  here,  one  for  its  oddity 
and  the  other  for  an  expression  of  opinion,  quite  ex- 
traordinary for  a  New  Englander  of  Colonial  times. 
On  September  4,  1774,  John  Adams  went  to  Christ 
Church,  Philadelphia,  where  "the  organ  and  a  new 
choir  of  singers  were  very  musical,"  and  on  October  9 
of  the  same  year  he  wrote: 

"Went,  in  the  afternoon,  to  the  Romish  Chapel.  The 
scenery  and  the  music  are  so  calculated  to  take  in 
mankind  that  I  wonder  the  Reformation  ever  succeeded. 
.    .    .    .      The  chanting  is  exquisitely  soft  and  sweet." 

Surely  John  Adams  was  not  such  a  dried-up  man  of 
"business  alone"  as  he  would  have  Mrs.  Warren  believe; 
yet,  taking  him  all  in  all,  it  is  doubtful  if  John  Adams 
really  felt  honored  when  Thomas  Paine  wrote  his 
patriotic  ode,  "Adams  and  Liberty"  (1798),  to  the  tune 
of  the  English  drinking-song  "To  Anacreon  in  Heaven," 
subsequently  shanghaied  for  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner." 

Strange,  that  the  children  of  John  Adams  should 
have  been  so  musical!  The  writings  of  John  Quincy 
Adams  abound  with  critical  remarks  on  the  arts  in 
general  and  on  music  in  particular,  and  the  letters  of 
Abigail  Adams  show  her  to  have  been  a  veritable 
melomaniac.  Here  are  a  few  delightful  lines  from  a 
letter  of  hers  to  Mrs.  Cranch,  dated  Auteuil,- February 
20,  1785,  and  describing  her  impressions  of  the  opera: 

And  O!  the  music,  vocal  and  instrumental:  It  has  a  soft,  per- 
suasive power,  and  a  dying  sound.  Conceive  a  highly  decorated 
building,  filled  with  youth,  beauty,  grace,  ease,  clad  in  all  the 
most  pleasing  and  various  ornaments  of  dress  which  fancy  can 
form;  these  objects  singing  like  cherubs  to  the  best  tuned  instru- 
ments most  skilfully  handled,  the  softest,  tenderest  strains;  every 
attitude  corresponding  with  the  music;  full  of  the  God  or  Goddess 
whom  they  celebrate;  the  female  voices  accompanied  by  an  equal 
number  of  Adonises.  Think  you  that  this  city  can  fail  of  becoming 
a  Cythera  and  this  house  the  temple  of  Venus? 

No  greater  contrast  than  between  John  Adams  and 
George  Washington.  The  "General,"  as  his  contem- 
poraries used  to  call  him,  was,  in  the  true  sense  of  a 


40 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

much  abused  term,  a  gentleman  of  the  world,  and  he 
cared  for  all  those  things  which  his  successor  abhorred. 
Some  persons  severely  criticised  him  for  this  attitude,  but, 
on  the  whole,  his  mode  of  living  only  served  to  endear 
him  to  the  hearts  of  a  people  not  willing  to  be  over- 
ascetic  or  to  condemn  the  niceties  of  life  as  temptations 
of  Satanas. 

Certainly  there  is  an  affinity  between  this  and  the 
fact  that  George  Washington's  praise  was  sung  in 
countless  songs.  In  fact,  very  few  patriotic  poems  of 
those  days  did  not  wind  up  with  the  glorification  of 
his  beloved  personality.  The  musicians,  too,  contributed 
their  share  of  worship,  and  the  literature  of  pieces 
written  in  his  honor  is  not  a  small  one,  comparatively 
speaking.  I  allude,  for  instance,  to  the  numerous 
Washington  marches,  one  of  which,  the  "President's 
March,"  was  immortalised  by  furnishing  the  tune  to 
Joseph  Hopkinson's  "Hail  Columbia."  Then  again 
our  first  operatic  •  effort  on  allegorical-political  lines, 
Francis  Hopkinson's  "Temple  of  Minerva"  (1781),  was 
practically  a  panegyric  on  Washington.  But  in  this 
connection  the  first  cyclus  of  songs,  written  and  com- 
posed by  a  native  American,  is  of  particular  interest. 
I  mean  the  "Seven  Songs  for  the  Harpsichord  or  Forte 
Piano"  (Philadelphia,  1788),  by  Francis  Hopkinson,  the 
first  American  composer.  They  were  dedicated  to 
George  Washington,  and  in  his  graceful  letter  of  ac- 
knowledgment, dated  Mount  Vernon,  February  5,  1789 
— by  the  way,  one  of  the  very  few  documents  in  which 
he  shows  a  humoristic  vein — our  first  President  writes: 

I  can  neither  sing  one  of  the  songs,  nor  raise  a  single  note  on 
any  instrument  to  convince  the  unbelieving. 

But  I  have,  however,  one  argument  which  will  prevail  with 
persons  of  true  taste  (at  least,  in  America) :  I  can  tell  them  that  it 
is  the  production  of  Mr.  Hopkinson. 

This  statement  destroys  once  for  ever  the  legend 
that  Washington  knew  how  to  "raise"  the  tones  of  the 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS   41 

flute  and  violin.  If  we  find  in  his  earliest  account 
books  the  entry:  "To  cash  pd.  ye  Musick  Master  for 
my  Entrance,  3.9."  this  probably  refers,  to  use  the 
words  of  Paul  Leicester  Ford,  to  the  singing-master 
whom  the  boys  and  girls  of  that  day  made  the  excuse 
for  evening  frolics.  But  the  statement  interferes  not 
with  the  fact  that  George  Washington  was  fond  of 
dancing  and  music.  We  know  from  George  Washington 
Park  Custis's  "Recollections,"  edited  by  Mr.  Lossing, 
that  the  "General"  was  conspicuous  for  his  graceful 
and  elegant  dancing  of  the  minuet.  He  was  admired 
for  the  last  time  in  this  capacity  at  a  ball  given  at 
Fredericksburg  in  1781  in  honor  of  the  French  and 
American  officers  on  their  return  from  the  triumphs  of 
Yorktown. 

There  is  a  natural  connection  between  the  love  of 
dancing  and  the  love  of  music,  and  an  unmusical  person 
would  never  have  been  sincerely  admired  for  the  elegant 
dancing  of  the  minuet.  But  we  possess  more  direct 
evidence  to  prove  our  point. 

Mr.  Custis  also  recollects  that  Washington  used  to 
visit  the  theatre  five  or  six  times  a  season,  if  circumstances 
allowed  it.  This  statement  finds  more  than  a  corrobora- 
tion in  Washington's  ledger  and  diary  which  he  kept 
from  time  to  time.  Mr.  Paul  Leicester  Ford  made 
copious  use  of  these  sources,  important  not  only  for 
the  study  of  the  "true"  George  Washington,  but  also 
for  the  history  of  the  drama  in  Virginia  and  Maryland, 
in  his  masterly  monograph  on  "Washington  and  the 
Theatre,"  published  in  1899  by  the  Dunlap  Society. 
From  this  book  we  may  glean  that  the  General,  espe- 
cially in  his  younger  days,  would  purchase  "Play  tickets" 
three,  four,  and  five  times  a  month.  Certainly  a  con- 
vincing proof  of  his  fondness  of  the  theatre.  Now,  we 
must  remember  the  peculiar  character  of  the  American 
stage  of  that  period.  The  actors  would  take  a  part  in 
a  drama  of  Shakespeare  or  Sheridan  to-night  and  would 


42 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

sing  in  the  fashionable  ballad-operas  the  next,  or  even 
the  same,  evening,  if  they  were  given  as  "after-pieces." 
In  addition,  hardly  a  performance  passed  without  some 
Thespian's  singing  popular  songs  or  arias  between  the 
acts,  and  instrumental  music  was  played  at  the  theatres 
very  much  as  it  is  to-day.  Consequently,  nobody 
with  ears  to  hear  could  escape  music  if  he  ventured 
into  a  theatre.  Had  George  Washington  been  indifferent 
to  the  charms  of  music,  he  certainly  would  not  have 
cared  to  listen  to  operas.  This,  however,  he  did  and 
continued  to  do  until  two  years  before  his  death.  By 
combining  the  theatrical  entries  in  his  diary  with  the 
dates  of  performances  at  New  York,  Philadelphia  and 
elsewhere,  we  learn  that  he  was  familiar  with  such 
ballad-operas  as  "The  Poor  Soldier,"  "Cymon  and 
Sylvia,"  "Maid  of  the  Mill,"  "The  Romp,"  "The  Far- 
mer," "Rosina."  His  favorite  opera  seems  to  have 
been  William  Shield's  "Poor  Soldier,"  first  performed 
at  London  in  1783  and  two  years  later  introduced  into 
the  United  States.  At  least,  Charles  Durang,  in  his 
"History  of  the  Philadelphia  Stage"  (partly  compiled 
from  the  papers  of  his  father  John,  a  ballet  dancer  in 
Washington's  days),  says  so,  and  he  adds  that  the 
"Poor  Soldier"  was  often  acted  at  the  President's  desire 
when  he  visited  the  theatre. 

We  also  know  from  Dunlap's  "History  of  the  American 
Theatre"  that  he  witnessed  the  first  performance  of 
"Darby's  Return"  on  November  24  (or  December  9), 
1789,  at  New  York.  This  ballad-interlude,  written  by 
Dunlap  as  a  sequel  to  the  "Poor  Soldier,"  in  which 
Darby  after  various  adventures  in  Europe  and  in  the 
United  States  returns  to  Ireland  and  recounts  the 
sights  he  had  seen,  was  for  years  very  popular.  Of  the 
first  performance  the  author  tells  us  this  amusing  story: 

"The  remembrance  of  this  performance  is  rendered 
pleasing  from  the  recollection  of  the  pleasure  evinced 
by  the  first  President  of  the  United  States,  the  immortal 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS      43 

Washington.  The  eyes  of  the  audience  were  frequently 
bent  on  his  countenance,  and  to  watch  the  emotions 
produced  by  any  particular  passage  on  him  was  the 
simultaneous  employment  of  all.  When  Wignell,  as 
Darby,  recounts  what  had  befallen  him  in  America,  in 
New  York,  at  the  adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution, 
and  the  inauguration  of  the  President,  the  interest  ex- 
pressed by  the  audience  in  the  looks  and  the  changes 
of  countenance  of  this  great  man  became  intense.  He 
smiled  at  these  lines  alluding  to  the  change  in  govern- 
ment: 

"  'There,  too,  I  saw  some  mighty  pretty  shows; 
A  revolution,  without  blood  or  blows; 
For,  as  I  understood,  the  cunning  elves, 
The  people,  all  revolted  from  themselves.' 

"But  at  the  lines: 

"  'A  man  who  fought  to  free  the  land  from  woe, 
Like  me,  had  left  his  farm,  a  soldiering  to  go, 
But,  having  gain'd  his  point,  he  had,  like  me, 
Return'd  his  own  potato  ground  to  see. 
But  there  he  could  not  rest.    With  one  accord 

He's  called  to  be  a  kind  of — not  a  lord 

I  don't  know  what.     He's  not  a  great  man,' sure, 
For  poor  men  love  him  just  as  he  were  poor. 
They  love  him  like  a  father,  or  a  brother, 

Dermot 
As  we  poor  Irishmen  love  one  another.' 

"the  President  looked  serious.  And  when  Kathleen 
asked : 

"  'How  looked  he,  Darby?    Was  he  short  or  tall?' 

"his  countenance  showed  embarrassment,  from  the 
expectation  of  one  of  those  eulogiums  which  he  had 
been  obliged  to  hear  on  many  occasions,  and  which 
must  doubtless  have  been  a  severe  trial  to  his  feelings; 
but  Darby's  answer  that  he  had  not  seen  him,  because 
he  had  mistaken  a  man  'all  lace  and  glitter,  botherum 
and  shine,'  for  him,  until  the  show  had  passed,  relieved 
the  hero  from  apprehension  of  further  personality,  and 


44 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

he  indulged  in  that  what  was  with  him  extremely  rare, 
a  hearty  laugh." 

It  is  a  peculiar  coincidence  that  of  the  two  allusions 
to  opera  to  be  found  in  Washington's  diary,  one  should 
again  deal  with  a  sequel  to  the  "Poor  Soldier."  During 
the  Federal  Convention  at  Philadelphia  in  1787  he  made 
the  following  entry  on  July  10: 

"Attended  Convention,  dined  at  Mr.  Morris's,  drank 
Tea  at  Mr.  Bingham's  and  went  to  the  play." 

By  investigating  the  newspapers,  we  are  enabled  to 
add  to  this  meagre  statement: 

"Spectaculum  Vitae:  At  the  Opera  House  in  South- 
wark  This  evening  the  10th  July,  will  be  performed  a 
Concert  in  the  first  Part  of  which  will  be  introduced  an 
entertainment,  called  the  Detective,  or,  the  Servants' 
Hall  in  an  Uproar.  To  which  will  be  added  a  Comic 
Opera  in  two  acts,  called  Love  in  a  Camp,  or,  Patrick 
in  Prussia.     ..." 

A  curious  advertisement,  but  familiar  to  the  students 
of  early  Philadelphia  papers.  Its  explanation  is  simple 
enough.  The  Quakers  did  their  best  to  suppress  all  the 
theatrical  entertainments  after  the  war  and  would  stop 
short  of  concerts  only.  The  managers  were  forced  to 
find  a  way  out  of  the  dilemma,  and  they  evaded  the 
law  by  giving  performances  under  all  sorts  of  disguises 
like  the  above.  The  most  ingenious  was  that  of  "Ham- 
let" as  "a  moral  and  instructive  tale"  as  "exemplified 
in  the  history  of  the  Prince  of  Denmark." 

George  Washington  is  stated  to  have  opposed  the 
narrow-minded  restrictions  against  drama,  and  this  is 
given  somewhere  as  the  main  reason  why  he  "went  to 
the  play"  three  times  in  rapid  succession  during  the 
Federal  Convention.  At  any  rate,  he  went,  and  if  he 
was   brought   into   contact  with   the   modern    English 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS  45 

music  of  his  day  on  July  10,  he  was  carried  back  to 
the  classical  period  on  July  14.  The  "Spectaculum 
Vitae" — in  the  innocent  disguise  of  a  concert — presented 
on  that  day 

"An  opera  called  the  Tempest,  or,  the  Enchanted 
Island  (Altered  from  Shakespeare  by  Dryden).  To 
conclude  with  a  Grand  Masque  of  Neptune  and  Amphi- 
trite:  With  entire  new  Scenery,  Machinery,  etc.  The 
Music  composed  by  Dr.  Purcell." 

But  George  Washington  not  only  attended  such  sham 
concerts.  We  know  from  various  historical  sources 
that  he  also  went  to  regular  concerts.  Again,  it  is  his 
ledger  that  furnishes  the  most  valuable  clues  in  this 
direction.  Anno  1757  we  find  the  entry:  "March  17th 
—By  Mr.  Palmas  Tickets,  52.  6."     Mr.  Ford  remarks: 

"...  presumably  an  expenditure  made  in  Phila- 
delphia during  the  officer's  visit  there  to  meet  Lord 
Loudon;  but  whether  the  tickets  were  for  the  theatre 
or  for  a  lottery  cannot  be  discovered.  The  second  entry 
is  more  specific,  being  to  the  effect:  'April  27 — By 
Tickets  to  the  Concert,  16.3.'  " 

Information  may  here  be  added,  overlooked  by  our 
eminent  historian.  In  the  first  place,  it  appears  from 
the  Pennsylvania  Gazette  that  said  Mr.  Palma  was  a 
musician,  his  Christian  name  being  given  as  John, 
probably  the  anglicised  form  of  the  Italian  "Giovanni." 
This  John  Palma  gave  a  concert  in  Philadelphia  at  the 
Assembly  Room  in  Lodge  Alley  on  January  25,  1757. 
I  find  no  further  allusion  to  him,  but  it  presumably 
was  he  who  advertised  in  the  Pennsylvania  Journal  on 
March  24,  1757: 

"By  Particular  Desire.  To  Morrow  Evening,  in  the 
Assembly  Room  precisely  at  7  o'clock,  will  be  a  Concert 
of  Music. 


46 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

"Tickets  to  be  had  at  the  Coffee-House  at  one  Dollar 
each." 

Is  it  too  farfetched  to  argue  that  George  Washington 
purchased  52s.  6d.  worth  of  tickets  in  advance  for  this 
concert?  If  not,  then  this  concert  would  be  the  earliest 
on  record  as  attended  by  the  future  father  of  our  country. 
Otherwise  it  would  be  the  one  for  which  he  purchased 
tickets  on  April  27,  but  to  which  I  found  no  further 
allusion. 

A  few  years  later  we  find  these  entries  for  expenditures 
made  at  Williamsburg,  Va.: 

1765 — "Apr.  2,  By  my  Exps.  to  hear  the  Armonica,  3.9." 
1767 — "Apr.  10,  Ticket  for  the  Concert,  5s." 

Of  course,  the  Armonica  was  not  the  wretched  instru- 
ment boys  and  sailors  maltreat  nowadays,  but  "the 
musical  glasses  without  water,  framed  into  a  complete 
instrument  capable  of  thoroughbass  and  never  out  of 
tune,"  as  Philip  Vicker  Fithian  (in  1774)  called  the 
then  world-famous  invention  of  a  no  less  illustrious 
person  than  Benjamin  Franklin.  Whom  George  Wash- 
ington heard  perform  on  the  Armonica,  we  know  not, 
as  it  seems  impossible  to  trace  the  two  concerts  men- 
tioned. 

During  the  War  for  Independence  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  had  but  scarce  opportunity  for  attending 
plays,  concerts  and  the  like.  Still,  a  few  occasions  are 
on  record.  For  instance,  he  was  the  guest  of  honor 
when  Luzerne,  the  Minister  of  France,  celebrated  the 
birthday  of  the  Dauphin  in  July,  1782,  with  a  concert, 
fire-works,  a  ball  and  a  supper.  But  the  entertainment 
given  by  the  Minister  in  December,  1781,  is  by  far 
more  interesting  to  the  students  of  "Americana." 
Under  date  of  December  19,  1781,  the  Freeman's 
Journal,  Philadelphia,  reported: 

"On  Friday  evening  of  the  11th  inst.  his  excellency 
the  minister  of  France,  who  embraces  every  opportunity 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS    47 

to  manifest  his  respect  to  the  worthies  of  America, 
and  politeness  to  its  inhabitants,  entertained  his  excel- 
lency general  Washington  and  his  lady;  the  lady  of 
general  Greene,  and  a  very  polite  circle  of  the  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  with  an  elegant  Concert,  in  which  an  Oratorio, 
composed  &  set  to  music  by  a  gentleman  whose  taste 
in  the  polite  arts  is  well  known,  was  introduced  and 
afforded  the  most  sensible  pleasure." 

Mr.  Ford  certainly  would  have  added  in  his  charming 
style  a  few  appropriate  remarks  had  he  known  that 
this  so-called  "Oratorio"  was  identical  with  Francis 
Hopkinson's  allegorical  operatic  sketch,  celebrating  the 
Franco-American  alliance  and  entitled  "The  Temple  of 
Minerva."  I  discovered  their  identity  when  studying 
certain  manuscripts  of  our  revolutionary  poet,  and  I  have 
described  "The  Temple  of  Minerva"  at  some  length  in 
my  book  on  the  musical  career  of  Francis  Hopkinson. 

In  a  similar  manner  George  Washington  may  be 
traced  as  a  concert-goer  until  the  year  1797,  from 
Charleston,  S.  C,  up  to  Boston.  There,  in  October, 
1789,  while  on  his  inaugural  tour,  he  was  treated  to  a 
so-called  "oratorio"  under  circumstances  described  in 
my  book  on  "Early  Concerts  in  America,"  and  Jacob 
Hilzheimer  narrates  in  his  diary  that  he  was  present 
"with  his  lady"  at  a  concert  in  the  Lutheran  Church 
at  Philadelphia  on  January  8,  1791.  At  Philadelphia 
it  also  was  where  the  President  entered  in  his  own  diary 
under  date  of  May  29,  1787: 

"Accompanied  by  Mrs.  Morris  to  the  benefit  concert 
of  a  Mr.  Juhan" — not  Julian,  as  Mr.  Ford  erroneously 
gives  the  name. 

At  Charleston,  S.  C,  in  May,  1791,  the  President 
entered : 

".  .  .  .  Went  to  a  Concert  at  the  Exchange  at  wch. 
there  were  at  least  400  ladies  the  number  &  appearance 
of  wch.  exceeded  anything  of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen." 


48 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

And  on  June  1,  1791,  at  Salem,  N.  C,  a  Moravian 
settlement: 

"Invited  six  of  their  principle  people  to  dine  with 
me — and  in  the  evening  went  to  hear  them  sing  & 
perform  on  a  variety  of  instruments  Church  music." 

And  February  28,  1797,  Claypoole's  American  Daily 
Advertiser,  Philadelphia,  announced  that 

"The  President  and  his  family  honor  the  Ladies' 
Concert  with  their  presence  this  evening." 

In  order  to  give  an  idea  of  the  kind  of  music  our  first 
President  would  hear  on  such  occasions,  I  quote  from 
the  Pennsylvania  Packet,  June  4,  1787,  the  remarkable 
program  of  Alexander  Reinagle's  concert,  which  Wash- 
ington, according  to  his  diary,  attended  on  June  12. 

Act  I. 

Overture Bach 

(Of  course  the  "London"  Bach,  not  Joh.  Seb.) 

Concerto  Violoncelle Capron 

Song Sarti 

Act  II. 

Overture Andre 

Concerto  Violon Fiorillo 

Concerto  Flute Brown 

Act  III. 

Overture  (La  Buona  Figliuola) Piccini 

Sonata  Pianoforte Reinagle 

A  new  Overture  (in  which  is  introduced  a  Scotch  Strathspey) 

Reinagle 

It  is  highly  probable  that  Alexander  Reinagle,  like 
Capron  and  Brown,  excellent  European  musicians 
settled  at  Philadelphia,  was  engaged  to  give  Nelly 
Custis  harpsichord  lessons.  George  Washington  had 
presented  to  his  adopted  daughter  a  fine  instrument  at 
the  cost  of  a  thousand  dollars — it  is  now  at  Mount 
Vernon  in  the  drawing-room — and  it  was  one  of  his 
great  pleasures  to  have  Nelly  sing  and  play  to  him 
such  songs  as  "The  Wayworn  Traveller,"  with  which 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS    49 

he  kept  her  constantly  supplied.  To  poor  Nelly,  how- 
ever, the  instrument  became  one  of  torture,  for  her 
grandmother  made  her  practice  upon  it  four  and 
five  hours  a  day,  as  her  brother  tells  us  in  his  "Re- 
collections." 

Few  as  these  glimpses  are  into  George  Washington's 
private  life,  they  will  have  sufficed  to  show  that  he  was 
not  indifferent  to  music,  and  that  he  by  no  means 
"appears  more  as  a  patron  or  an  escort  to  the  ladies 
than  as  a  lover  of  music,"  as  Mr.  Tower  has  it  in  his 
"Excerpts  from  Account  Books  of  Washington." 

Turning  to  Thomas  Jefferson,  we  gain  terra  firma,  and 
are  no  longer  obliged  to  rely  upon  circumstantial  evidence. 
In  fact,  music  was  a  passion  with  him.  His  own  words 
and  numerous  anecdotes  go  to  prove  this.  Especially 
his  skillful  violin  playing  has  become  traditional.  But 
grandmothers  in  Virginia,  who  heard  the  truth  from 
the  preceding  generation,  quote  an  early  authority  as 
saying  that  Patrick  Henry  was  the  worst  fiddler  in  the 
colony  with  the  exception  of  Thomas  Jefferson.  So 
Mr.  Curtis  informs  us  in  his  delightful  book  on  the 
"true"  Thomas  Jefferson.  The  truth  probably  lies 
between  the  two  traditions. 

At  any  rate,  Jefferson  acquired  in  early  youth  a 
certain  proficiency  on  the  violin.  It  was  his  constant 
companion;  it  helped  to  mitigate  the  exactions  of  his 
public  duties,  and  even  as  President  he  would  continue 
to  practice.  He  used  to  play  duets  with  Patrick  Henry, 
John  Tyler  and  other  friends,  and  widow  Martha 
Skelton's  fondness  of  music  surely  was  one  of  the 
attractions  that  finally,  in  1772,  led  to  her  marriage 
with  Jefferson.  There  is  even  a  romance  connected 
with  his  favorite  instrument.  If  ever  the  history  of  the 
Cremonese  violins  in  America  should  be  written,  it  will 
be  well  not  to  forget  the  name  of  Jefferson,  for  it  is 
possible  that  he  owned  one  of  the  earliest  Cremonese 
instruments  brought  to  our  country.     At  least,   it  is 


50  SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

certain  that  John  Randolph,  the  son  of  the  King's  Attor- 
ney-General, had  bought  a  costly  violin  in  Italy.  Once 
Thomas  Jefferson  laid  his  eyes  on  his  friend's  coveted 
treasure  and  listened  to  its  tones,  it  became  the  ambition 
of  his  life  to  possess  it.  He  rested  not  until  the  owner 
agreed  to  part  with  it  under  certain  conditions.  The 
contract — for  it  was  a  contract,  duly  signed,  sealed, 
witnessed  and  recorded  in  the  general  court  of  Will- 
iamsburg— reads : 

"It  is  agreed  between  John  Randolph  and  Thomas 
Jefferson,  that  in  case  the  said  John  shall  survive  the 
said  Thomas,  the  executors  of  the  said  Thomas  shall 
deliver  to  the  said  John  the  value  of  Eighty  Pounds 
Sterling  of  the  books  of  the  said  Thomas,  the  same  to 
be  chosen  by  the  said  John,  and  in  case  the  said  Thomas 
shall  survive  the  said  John,  the  executors  of  the  said 
John  shall  deliver  to  the  said  Thomas  the  violin  which 
the  said  John  brought  with  him  into  Virginia,  together 
with  all  his  music  composed  for  the  violin." 

If  the  others  considered  this  agreement  a  joke,  not 
so  Thomas  Jefferson.  Indeed,  Mr.  Curtis  assures  us 
that  he  added  a  codicil  to  his  will,  which  he  wrote  as 
soon  as  he  became  of  age,  providing  for  the  fulfilment 
of  the  compact  by  the  executors.  But  the  Revolutionary 
War  interfered  with  the  stipulations  of  the  contract 
and  will.  Said  John  returned  to  England  in  1775  and 
sold  his  precious  instrument  to  said  Thomas  for  the 
paltry  sum  of  thirteen  pounds. 

That  Jefferson  was  not  proficient  on  the  harpsichord, 
he  plainly  states  in  a  letter  to  Francis  Hopkinson  in 
1785 ;  but  it  also  appears  from  his  correspondence  that  he 
was  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  a  keyed  instrument 
which  would  satisfy  his  tastes.  For  instance,  he  begs 
Thomas  Adams  under  date  of  Monticello,  February 
20,  1771: 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS    51 

"...  to  hasten  particularly  the  Clavichord  which 
I  have  directed  to  be  purchased  in  Hamburg,  because 
they  are  better  made  there  and  much  cheaper." 

A  highly  interesting  remark,  if  it  be  remembered 
that  not  the  German,  but  the  English  instruments, 
especially  those  of  Kirkman  in  London,  were  then 
generally  considered  the  best.  If  Thomas  Adams  has- 
tened to  comply  with  Jefferson's  request,  he  must  have 
felt  embarrassed  upon  receiving  this  second  letter, 
dated  June  1,  1771: 

"  .  .  .  I  wrote  .  .  for  a  Clavichord.  I  have  since 
seen  a  Fortepiano  and  am  charmed  with  it.  Send  me  this 
instrument,  then,  instead  of  the  Clavichord.  Let  the 
case  be  of  fine  mahogany,  solid,  not  veneered,  the 
compass  from  Double  G  to  F  in  alt.,  a  plenty  of  spare 
strings;  and  the  workmanship  of  the  whole  very  hand- 
some and  worthy  of  the  acceptance  of  a  lady  for  whom 
I  intend  it.  [Martha  Skelton?]  .  .  .  By  this  change 
of  the  Clavichord  into  a  Fortepiano  and  addition  of 
other  things,  I  shall  be  brought  into  debt  to  you  to 
discharge  which  I  will  ship  you  of  the  first  tobacco  I 
get  to  the  warehouse  in  the  fall  .  .  as  soon  as  you 
receive  this  .  .  and  particularly  the  Fortepiano  for 
which  I  shall  be  very  impatient." 

It  is  but  natural  that  a  man  whose  love  of  music 
was  so  pronounced  should  have  laid  stress  upon  a 
musical  education  for  his  children.  This  side  of  their 
proverbially  excellent  education  seems  to  have  been  a 
matter  of  grave  concern  to  him.  Words  like  "Do  not 
neglect  your  music.  It  will  be  a  companion  which  will 
sweeten  many  hours  of  your  life,"  run  like  a  motto 
through  the  letters  to  his  daughters,  letters  written 
with  such  paternal  affection  that  they  cannot  fail  to 
move  whoever  reads  them.  He  constantly  urged  Mary 
and  Patsy,  as  he  called  his  daughter  Martha,  to  keep 


52 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

him  well  informed  of  their  musical  progress,  and  when 
the  young  ladies  preferred  to  neglect  this  wish  they  were 
sure  to  receive  a  mild  scolding.  Jefferson  was  most 
exacting  in  such  matters.  Though  he  detested  pro- 
fessional soldiery,  he  certainly  was  a  strict  disciplinarian 
in  family  life.  At  times  he  would  go  to  extremes  and 
become  almost  pedantic.  Of  this,  a  letter  written  to 
his  "dear  Patsy"  from  Annapolis  on  November  28, 
1783,  when  on  his  way  to  Paris,  is  a  characteristic 
example : 

"•..-..  With  respect  to  the  distribution  of  your 
time,  the  following  is  what  I  should  approve: 

"From  8  to  10  practice  music. 

"From  10  to  1  dance  one  day  and  draw  another. 

"From  1  to  2  draw  on  the  day  you  dance  and  write 
a  letter  next  day. 

"From  3  to  4  read  French. 

"From  4  to  5  exercise  yourself  in  music. 

"From  5  till  bedtime  read  English,  write,  etc. 

"I  expect  you  to  write  me  by  every  post.  Inform  me 
what  books  you  read,  what  tunes  you  learn  and  enclose 
me  your  best  copy  in  every  lesson  of  drawing.    .    .    . 

Poor  Patsy!  Her  father  was  actually  starving  her  to 
death,  as  this  wonderfully  systematic  distribution  of 
time  did  not  provide  for  meals.  Not  lacking  in  the 
sense  of  humor  like  her  father,  Patsy  probably  smiled 
when  receiving  the  letter  and  amended  the  plan  to  give 
proportionate  rights  to  body  and  soul. 

During  his  long  residence  at  Paris,  Thomas  Jefferson, 
of  course,  had  ample  opportunity  for  gratifying  his 
love  of  music.  It  is  but  necessary  to  peruse  his  volum- 
inous correspondence  as  preserved  in  autograph  at  the 
Library  of  Congress  to  prove  this.  That  he  was  person- 
ally acquainted  with  such  men  as  Piccinni  we  know 
from  his  letters  to  Francis  Hopkinson,  and  these  letters 
— extracts  from  them  are  to  be  found  in  my  book  on 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS    53 

Hopkinson — also  prove  that  Jefferson  took  a  lively  and 
intelligent  interest  in  his  friend's  "improved  method  of 
quilling  a  harpsichord"  not  only,  but  in  his  exciting 
project  to  apply  a  keyboard  to  the  Armonica  or  Musical 
Glasses.  Indeed,  improvements  of  musical  instruments 
seem  to  have  attracted  his  attention  whenever  he  heard 
of  such.  For  instance,  one  of  Jefferson's  letters  con- 
tains a  detailed  description  with  a  careful  diagram  of 
Krumpholtz's  "Foot-bass,"  alias  Pedalharp,  and  in 
another  letter  he  suggested  to  Hopkinson  how  to  im- 
prove "the  staccado  with  glass  bars  instead  of  wooden 
ones,  and  with  keys  applied  to  it,"  which  "pretty  little 
instrument"  Franklin,  as  Jefferson  adds,  was  in  the 
habit  of  carrying  with  him. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  kind  of  musical  letter  that 
would  pass  between  the  two  friends  I  quote  here  a 
letter  from  Francis  Hopkinson  to  Thomas  Jefferson 
under  date  of  Philadelphia,  October  23,  1788.  Though 
preserved  at  the  Library  of  Congress,  I  discovered  it 
too  late  for  publication  in  my  book  on  "Francis  Hop- 
kinson and  James  Lyon."  "The  compositions  alluded 
to  are,  of  course,  Hopkinson's  "Seven  Songs,"  that 
exasperatingly  scarce  publication  of  his  dedicated  to 
George  Washington,  the  father  of  our  country,  by  him 
who  in  the  dedicatory  preface  claimed  "the  Credit  of 
being  the  first  Native  of  the  United  States  who  has 
produced  a  Musical  Composition."  I  wonder  if  the 
millennium  will  record  as  last  American  composer  a 
Member  of  Congress,  as  was  the  first. 

"I  have  amused  myself  with  composing  six  easy  and 
simple  Songs  for  the  Harpsichord — Words  and  Music 
all  my  own.  The  Music  is  now  engraving,  when  finish'd 
I  will  do  myself  the  Pleasure  of  sending  a  Copy  to  Miss 
Jefferson.  The  best  of  them  is  that  they  are  so  easy 
that  any  Person  who  can  play  at  all,  may  perform  them 
without   much   Trouble,   and    I    have   endeavoured   to 


54 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

make  the  Melodies  pleasing  to  the  untutor'd  Ear.  My 
new  Method  of  quilling  or  rather  tonguing  the  Harpsi- 
chord has  had  the  Test  of  Time  and  answers  perfectly 
well  in  every  Respect — both  my  Daughters  play,  one  of 
them  very  well.  The  Harpsichord  is  forever  in  Exercise 
and  yet  my  Tongues  stand  unimpaired,  and  my  Harpsd 
is  always  in  Order,  in  that  Respect." 

The  contrast  in  matters  musical  between  here  and 
abroad  would  naturally  impress  itself  forcibly  upon 
Jefferson's  mind,  especially  after  his  return  from  Paris. 
To  be  sure,  our  musical  life  made  great  progress  after 
the  war,  and  by  far  greater  than  our  historians  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  describing  it,  yet  it  remained  very 
provincial  and  crude  if  compared  with  that  at  Paris. 
During  the  war  it  was  crushed  almost  entirely.  Cer- 
tainly no  music-lover  deplored  this  more  than  Jefferson, 
but  he  was  not  willing  to  quietly  submit  to  the  logic  of 
conditions.  Music  he  must  have,  and  that  after  the 
fashion  of  the  grand  seigneur  of  Europe.  Only  a  Vir- 
ginian Cavalier — and  they  all  loved  music — would  have 
dreamed  in  those  dark  days  of  formulating  plans  such 
as  Jefferson  did  in  a  letter  addressed  to  an  anonymous 
friend,  probably  a  Parisian,  from  Williamsburg  on  June 
8,  1778.  It  is  to  be  found  in  Paul  Leicester  Ford's 
edition  of  Jefferson's  writings,  published  by  Putnam's 
Sons,  and  it  reads  in  part  thus: 

"  .  .  .  If  there  is  a  gratification  which  I  envy 
any  people  in  this  world,  it  is  to  your  country  its  music. 
This  is  the  favorite  passion  of  my  soul  &  fortune  has 
cast  my  lot  in  a  country  where  it  is  in  a  state  of  deplorable 
barbarism.  I  shall  ask  your  assistance  in  procuring  a 
substitute,  who  may  be  proficient  in  singing  &  on  the 
Harpsichord.  I  should  be  contented  to  receive  such  a 
one  two  or  three  years  hence  when  it  is  hoped  he  may 
come  more  safely  and  find  here  a  greater  plenty  of 
those  useful  things  which  commerce  alone  can  furnish. 


THE  MUSICAL  SIDE  OF  OUR  FIRST  PRESIDENTS     55 

The  bounds  of  an  American  fortune  will  not  admit  the 
indulgence  of  a  domestic  band  of  musicians,  yet  I  have 
thought  that  a  passion  for  music  might  be  reconciled 
with  that  economy  which  we  are  obliged  to  observe. 
I  retain,  for  instance,  among  my  domestic  servants  a 
gardener  (Ortolano),  a  weaver  (Tessitore  di  lino  e  lin), 
a  cabinet  maker  (Stipeltaio)  and  a  stone  cutter  (Scal- 
petino  laborante  in  piano)  to  which  I  would  add  a 
vigneron.  In  a  country  where  like  yours  music  is  culti- 
vated and  practised  by  every  class  I  suppose  there 
might  be  found  persons  of  those  trades  who  could 
perform  on  the  French  horn,  clarinet  or  hautboy  & 
bassoon,  so  that  one  might  have  a  band  of  two  French 
horns,  two  clarinets  &  hautboys  &  a  bassoon,  without 
enlarging  their  domestic  expenses.  A  certainty  of  em- 
ployment for  a  half  dozen  years,  and  at  the  end  of  that 
time  to  find  them  if  they  choose  a  conveyance  to  their 
own  country  might  induce  them  to  come  here  on  reason- 
able wages.  Without  meaning  to  give  you  trouble, 
perhaps  it  might  be  practicable  for  you  in  [your]  or- 
dinary intercourse  with  your  people  to  find  out  such 
men  disposed  to  come  to  America.  Sobriety  and  good 
nature  would  be  desirable  parts  of  their  character.  If 
you  think  such  a  plan  practicable  and  will  be  so  kind 
as  to  inform  me  what  will  be  necessary  to  be  done  on 
my  part,  I  will  take  care  that  it  shall  be  done.  ..." 

Whether  the  plan  was  carried  out,  I  do  not  know. 
Probably  this  combination  of  the  useful  and  pleasing 
was  found  to  be  impracticable.  Had  the  bounds  of  an 
American  fortune  of  those  days  permitted  the  indulgence 
in  a  domestic  band,  who  knows  but  that  Monticello 
would  have  become  the  American  Eisenstadt?  En 
miniature,  of  course,  and  with  this  slight  difference: 
that  Thomas  Jefferson  probably  would  not  have  had, 
like  Prince  Esterhazy,  a  Joseph  Haydn  as  musical 
factotum. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE 

{Paper  read  in  1903  and  based  on  my  article  in  "Music,"  1900) 

Benjamin  Franklin's  polyhistoric  erudition  was  not 
merely  of  a  receptive  kind.  Like  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
our  "patriot  and  sage,"  as  Franklin  was  called  in 
eulogies,  never  received  without  giving.  He  suggested 
inventions  and  improvements  whenever  he  became  in- 
terested in  a  subject,  whether  in  electricity,  book- 
printing,  flying  machines — the  latter  in  the  modern 
sense  of  the  term,  not  fast  stage-coaches,  as  in  the 
terminology  of  the  eighteenth  century — optics,  chemis- 
try, submarine  boats,  stoves,  eye-glasses,  street-cleaning, 
and  so  forth. 

Strangely  enough,  the  invention  of  the  musical 
glasses,  generally  attributed  to  Franklin,  was  not  abso- 
lutely his.  He  only  suggested  some  improvements,  so 
important  and  radical,  however,  that  the  instrument 
appeared  to  be  original.     As  a  matter  of  fact  [see  Grove], 

the  power  of  producing  musical  sounds  from  basins  or  drinking 
glasses  by  the  application  of  the  moistened  finger,  and  of  tuning 
them  so  as  to  obtain  concords  from  two  at  once,  was  known  as 
early  as  the  middle  of  the  17th  century,  since  it  is  alluded  to  in 
Harsdorffer's  "Mathematische  und  philosophische  Erquickungen" 
(Nuremberg,  1677,  II,  147). 

And  long  before  Franklin  paid  any  attention  to  the 
improvement  of  the  musical  glasses,  they  were  known 
and  heard  in  public.  No  less  a  composer  than  Gluck 
performed  on  them  in  London  in  1746,  as  appears  from 
the  following  oft-quoted  advertisement  in  the  General 
Advertiser  for  March  31,  1746: 

At  Mr.  Hickford's  Great  Room  in  Brewer's-street,  on  Monday, 
April  14,  Signor  Gluck,  Composer  of  the  Operas,  will  exhibit  a 
Concert  of  Musick.  He  will  play  a  Concert  upon  Twenty-six 
Drinking  Glasses,  tuned  with  Spring  water,  accompanied  with  the 
whole  Band,  being  a  new  Instrument  of  his  own  Invention,  upon 

59 


60 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

which  he  performs  whatever  may  be  done  on  a  Violin  or  Harpsi- 
chord; and  therefore  hopes  to  satisfy  the  Curious,  as  well  as  the 
Lovers  of  Musick.  To  begin  at  Half  an  hour  after  Six.  Tickets 
Half  a  guinea  each. 

Maybe  Gluck  really  did  invent  a  practicable  instru- 
ment made  of  drinking  glasses  filled  with  water,  but 
Franklin  certainly  did  not  base  his  experiments  on 
Gluck.  His  part  in  the  history  of  the  now  obsolete 
instrument  seems  to  have  been  well  known  in  Phila- 
delphia, for  I  found  in  a  "History  of  the  Life  and 
Character  of  Benjamin  Franklin,"  published  in  the 
form  of  a  eulogy  in  the  Columbian  Magazine  for  January, 
1791,  pp.  55-56,  this  passage: 

The  tone  produced  by  rubbing  the  brim  of  a  drinking  glass 
with  a  wet  finger  had  been  generally  known.  A  Mr.  Puckeridge, 
an  Irishman,  by  placing  on  a  table  a  number  of  glasses  of  different 
sizes,  and  tuning  them  by  partly  filling  them  with  water,  endeavoured 
to  form  an  instrument,  capable  of  playing  tunes.  He  was  prevented 
by  an  untimely  end,  from  bringing  his  invention  to  any  degree  of 
perfection.  After  his  death,  some  improvements  were  made  upon 
his  plan.  The  sweetness  of  the  tones  induced  Dr.  Franklin  to 
make  a  Variety  of  experiments ;  and  he  at  length  formed  that  elegant 
instrument,  which  he  has  called  the  ARMONICA. 

These  statements  coincide  with  a  detailed  description 
of  the  instrument  given  by  Franklin  himself  to  John 
Baptist  Beccaria  of  Turin,  under  date  of  London, 
July  13,  1762: 

You  have  doubtless  heard  the  sweet  tone  that  is  drawn  from  a 
drinking  glass  by  passing  a  wet  finger  round  its  brim.  One  Mr. 
Puckeridge,  a  gentleman  from  Ireland,  was  the  first  who  thought 
of  playing  tunes,  formed  of  these  tones.  He  collected  a  number 
of  glasses  of  different  sizes,  fixed  them  near  each  other  on  a  table, 
and  tuned  them  by  putting  into  them  water  more  or  less  as  each 
note  required.  The  tones  were  brought  out  by  passing  his  fingers 
round  their  brims.  He  was  unfortunately  burned  here,  with  his 
instrument,  in  a  fire  which  consumed  the  house  he  lived  in.  Mr. 
E.  Delaval,  a  most  ingenious  member  of  our  Royal  Society,  made 
one  in  imitation  of  it,  with  a  better  choice  and  form  of  glasses, 
which  was  the  first  I  saw  or  heard.  Being  charmed  by  the  sweet- 
ness of  its  tones,  and  the  music  he  produced  from  it,  I  wished 
only  to  see  the  glasses  disposed  in  a  more  convenient  form,  and 
brought  together  in  a  narrower  compass,  so  as  to  admit  of  a  greater 
number  of  tones,  and  all  within  reach  of  hand  to  a  person  sitting 
before  the  instrument,  which  I  accomplished,  after  various  trials 
and  less  commodious  forms,  both  of  glasses  and  construction,  in 
the  following  manner. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  61 


The  glasses  are  blown  as  near  as  possible  in  the  form  of  hemi- 
spheres, having  each  an  open  neck  or  socket  in  the  middle.  (See 
Plate  II,  Figure  1.)  The  thickness  of  the  glass  near  the  brim  about 
a  tenth  of  an  inch,  or  hardly  quite  so  much,  but  thicker  as  it  comes 
nearer  the  neck,  which  in  the  largest  glasses  is  about  an  inch  deep 
and  an  inch  and  a  half  wide  within,  these  dimensions  lessening,  as 
the  glasses  themselves  diminish  in  size,  except  that  the  neck  of 
the  smallest  ought  not  to  be  shorter  than  half  an  inch.  The  largest 
glass  is  nine  inches  in  diameter,  and  the  smallest  three  inches. 
Between  these  two  are  twenty-three  different  sizes,  differing  from 
each  other  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  To  make  a  single 
instrument  there  should  be  at  least  six  glasses  blown  of  each  size; 
and  out  of  this  number  one  may  probably  pick  thirty-seven  glasses 
(which  are  sufficient  for  three  octaves  with  all  the  semitones)  that 
will  be  each  either  the  note  one  wants  or  a  little  sharper  than  that 
note,  and  all  fitting  so  well  into  each  other  as  to  taper  pretty  regu- 
larly from  the  largest  to  the  smallest.  It  is  true  there  are  not 
thirty-seven  sizes,  but  it  often  happens  that  two  of  the  same  size 
differ  a  note  or  half  note  in  tone,  by  reason  of  a  difference  in  thick- 
ness, and  these  may  be  placed  one  in  the  other  without  sensibly 
hurting  the  regularity  of  the  taper  form. 

The  glasses  being  chosen,  and  every  one  marked  with  a  diamond 
the  note  you  intend  it  for,  they  are  to  be  tuned  by  diminishing 
the  thickness  of  those  that  are  too  sharp.  This  is  done  by  grinding 
them  round  from  the  neck  towards  the  brim,  the  breadth  of  one 
or  two  inches,  as  may  be  required;  often  trying  the  glass  by  a  well 
tuned  harpsichord,  comparing  the  tone  drawn  from  the  glass  by 
your  finger  with  the  note  you  want,  as  sounded  by  that  string  of 
the  harpsichord.  When  you  come  nearer  the  matter,  be  careful 
to  wipe  the  glass  clean  and  dry  before  each  trial,  because  the  tone 
is  something  flatter  when  the  glass  is  wet  than  it  will  be  when  dry; 
and  grinding  a  very  little  between  each  trial,  you  will  thereby  tune 
to  great  exactness.  The  more  care  is  necessary  in  this,  because, 
if  you  go  below  your  required  tone,  there  is  no  sharpening  it  again 
but  by  grinding  somewhat  off  the  brim,  which  will  afterwards 
require  polishing,  and  thus  increase  the  trouble. 

The  glasses  thus  tuned,  you  are  to  be  provided  with  a  case  for 
them,  and  a  spindle  on  which  they  are  to  be  fixed.  (See  Plate  II., 
Figure  2.)  My  case  is  about  three  feet  long,  eleven  inches  every 
way  wide  within  at  the  biggest  end,  and  five  inches  at  the  smallest 
end;  for  it  tapers  all  the  way,  to  adapt  it  better  to  the  conical 
figure  of  the  set  of  glasses.  This  case  opens  in  the  middle  of  its 
height,  and  the  upper  part  turns  up  by  hinges  fixed  behind.  The 
spindle,  which  is  of  hard  iron,  lies  horizontally  from  end  to  end  of 
the  box  within,  exactly  in  the  middle,  and  is  made  to  turn  on 
brass  gudgeons  at  each  end.  It  is  round,  an  inch  in  diameter  at 
the  thickest  end,  and  tapering  to  a  quarter  of  an  inch  at  the  smallest. 
A  square  shank  comes  from  its  thickest  end  through  the  box,  on 
which  shank  a  wheel  is  fixed  by  a  screw.  This  wheel  serves  as  a 
fly  to  make  the  motion  equable,  when  the  spindle,  with  the  glasses, 
is  turned  by  the  foot  like  a  spinning-wheel.  My  wheel  is  of  maho- 
gany, eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  and  pretty  thick,  so  as  to  conceal 
near  its  circumference  about  twenty-five  pounds  of  lead.  An 
ivory  pin  is  fixed  in  the  face  of  this  wheel,  and  about  four  inches 
frcm  the  axis.     Over  the  neck  of  this  pin  is  put  the  loop  of  the 


62 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

string  that  comes  up  from  the  movable  step  to  give  it  motion. 
The  case  stands  on  a  neat  frame  with  four  legs. 

To  fix  the  glasses  on  the  spindle,  a  cork  is  first  to  be  fitted  in 
each  neck  pretty  tight,  and  projecting  a  little  without  the  neck, 
that  the  neck  of  one  may  not  touch  the  inside  of  another  when 
put  together,  for  that  would  make  a  jarring.  These  corks  are  to 
be  perforated  with  holes  of  different  diameters,  so  as  to  suit  that 
part  of  the  spindle  on  which  they  are  to  be  fixed.  When  a  glass 
is  put  on,  by  holding  it  stiffly  between  both  hands,  while  another 
turns  the  spindle,  it  may  be  gradually  brought  to  its  place. 

But  care  must  be  taken  that  the  hole  be  not  too  small,  lest,  in 
forcing  it  up,  the  neck  should  be  split;  nor  too  large,  lest  the  glass, 
not  being  firmly  fixed,  should  turn  or  move  on  the  spindle,  so  as 
to  touch  and  jar  against  its  neighbouring  glass.  The  glasses  thus 
are  placed  one  in  another,  the  largest  on  the  biggest  end  of  the 
spindle,  which  is  to  the  left  hand;  the  neck  of  this  glass  is  towards 
the  wheel,  and  the  next  goes  into  it  in  the  same  position,  only 
about  an  inch  of  its  brim  appearing  beyond  the  brim  of  the  first; 
thus  proceeding,  every  glass  when  fixed .  shows  about  an  inch  of 
its  brim  (or  three  quarters  of  an  inch,  or  half  an  inch,  as  they 
grow  smaller)  beyond  the  brim  of  the  glass  that  contains  it;  and 
it  is  from  these  exposed  parts  of  each  glass  that  the  tone  is  drawn,  by 
laying  a  finger  upon  one  of  them  as  the  spindle  and  glasses  turn  round. 

My  largest  glass  is  G,  a  little  below  the  reach  of  a  common 
voice,  and  my  highest  G,  including  three  complete  octaves.  To 
distinguish  the  glasses  the  more  readily  to  the  eye,  I  have  painted 
the  apparent  parts  of  the  glasses  within  side,  every  semitone  white, 
and  the  other  notes  of  the  octave  with  the  seven  prismatic  colors, 
viz.,  C,  red;  D,  orange;  E,  yellow;  F,  green;  G,  blue;  A,  indigo; 
B,  purple,  and  C,  red  again;  so  that  glasses  of  the  same  color  (the 
white  excepted)  are  always  octaves  to  each  other. 

This  instrument  is  played  upon,  by  sitting  before  the  middle 
of  the  set  of  glasses  as  before  the  keys  of  a  harpsichord,  turning 
them  with  the  foot,  and  wetting  them  now  and  then  with  a  spunge 
and  clean  water.  The  fingers  should  be  first  a  little  soaked  in 
water,  and  quite  free  from  all  greasiness;  a  little  fine  chalk  upon 
them  is  sometimes  useful,  to  make  them  catch  the  glass  and  bring 
out  the  tone  more  readily.  Both  hands  are  used,  by  which  means 
different  parts  are  played  together.  Observe,  that  the  tones  are 
best  drawn  out  when  the  glasses  turn  from  the  ends  of  the  fingers, 
not  when  they  turn  to  them. 

The  advantages  of  this  instrument  are,  that  its  tones  are  incom- 
parably sweet  beyond  those  of  any  other;  that  they  are  swelled 
and  softened  at  pleasure  by  stronger  or  weaker  pressures  of  the 
finger,  and  continued  to  any  length,  and  that  the  instrument, 
being  once  well  tuned,  never  again  wants  tuning. 

In  honor  of  your  musical  language,  I  have  borrowed  from  it 
the  name  of  this  instrument,  calling  it  the  Armonica. 

With  great  esteem  and  respect,  I  am,  &c,        B.  Franklin.* 

♦See  Bigelow,  "The  Complete  Works  of  Benjamin  Franklin.  .  .  Vol.  Ill, 
pp.  198-204.  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  1887.  In  1769  an  Italian  version  of  this 
letter  was  published  in  pamphlet  form  (8  leaves,  12  mo.)  The  title  reads:  "L'Ar- 
monica.  Lettera  del  Signor  Beniamino  Franklin  al  padre  Giambattista  Beccaria 
regio  professore  di  fisica  nell'Universita  di  Torino  dall'Inglese  recata  nell'Italiano. 
Nella  reale  stamperia  di  Torino."  A  copy  of  this  extremely  scarce  pamphlet  is 
in  the  Liceo  Musicale  of  Bologna.  Is  there  a  copy  in  America,  and  is  the  publication 
known  to  American  Franklin  bibliographers? 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE  63 

Our  knowledge  of  Franklin's  share  in  the  development 
of  the  Armonica  rests  on  this  letter  and  one  dated 
London,  December  8,  1772,  answering  the  queries  of 
M.  Dubourg  concerning  the  best  method  of  playing 
the  instrument. 

As  the  outlines  of  Franklin's  autobiography  included 
a  descriptive  history  of  the  Armonica,  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  the  book  remained  a  torso. 

The  ingenious  instrument  soon  aroused  widespread 
interest.  The  Hannoversche  Magazin  and  the  Leipziger 
Wochentliche  Nachrichten  die  Musik  betreffend  both  con- 
tained descriptions  of  it  as  early  as  1766.  The  Musika- 
lischer  Almanack  fur  Deutschland  auf  das  Jahr  1782  said: 


Of  all  musical  inventions,  the  one  of  Mr.  Franklin  has  created 
perhaps  the  greatest  excitement.  Concerning  the  way  of  producing 
tones,  it  is  an  entirely  new  kind  of  instrument. 


By  that  time  the  Armonica  had  become  fashionable. 
We  remember  the  delightful  passage  in  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield: 


They  would  talk  of  nothing  but  high  life,  and  high-lived  com- 
pany; with  other  fashionable  topics,  such  as  pictures,  taste,  Shake- 
speare and  the  musical  glasses. 


Goldsmith's  masterwork  was  published  in  1761;  it 
might  be  asked  why  I  bring  his  words  into  connection 
with  Franklin's  musical  glasses.  Certain  chronological 
reasons  will  offer  an  explanation. 

The  musical  glasses  were  not  played  in  private 
circles  only,  but  in  concerts,  and  the  names  of  several 
Armonica  virtuosos  have  come  down  to  posterity. 

Miss  Marianne  Davies,  the  daughter  of  a  relative  of 
Franklin,  must  have  been  the  first  virtuoso  on  the  in- 
strument, as  she  evidently  used  the  first  instrument 
built  by  Franklin.  This  fact  appears  from  a  communi- 
cation printed  under  date  of  "London,  Jan.  12,  1762" 


64 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

in  the  Bristol  Journal  and  reprinted  in  the  Magazine  of 
American  History  (1883).     We  find  advertised: 

The  celebrated  Glassy-Chord,  invented  by  Mr.  Franklin  of 
Philadelphia;  who  has  greatly  improved  the  Musical  Glasses,  and 
formed  them  into  a  compleat  Instrument  to  accompany  the  Voice; 
capable  of  a  thorough  Bass,  and  never  out  of  Tune. 

Miss  Davies,  from  London,  was  to  perform  in  the  Month  of 
January,  several  favourite  Airs,  English,  Scotch  and  Italian,  on 
the  Glassychord  (being  the  only  one  of  the  kind  that  has  yet  been 
produced)  accompanied  occasionally  with  the  Voice  and  German 
Flute.     Vivat  Rex  &  Regina. 

This  advertisement  helps  us  in  two  directions.  In 
the  first  place,  it  shows  that  the  original  name  of  the 
instrument  was  Glassy-Chord,  and  not  Armonica.  This, 
of  course,  interferes  in  no  way  with  Franklin's  statement 
to  Padre  Beccaria  that  he  named  it  Armonica  in  honor 
of  the  musical  Italian  language. 

In  the  second  place,  the  advertisement  proves  that 
Franklin  must  have  built  his  first  instrument  prior  to 
1762  and  after  1757,  as  otherwise  he  would  have  men- 
tioned the  fact  in  his  autobiography.  Now,  Miss 
Davies  certainly  did  not  appear  in  public  as  a  performer 
on  the  Glassy-Chord  without  being  proficient  on  it. 
Proficiency  requires  practice  and  practice  requires  time. 
Furthermore,  the  Glassy-Chord  is  already  spoken  of  as 
a  celebrated  instrument.  It  could  not  very  well  become 
celebrated  over  night.  Therefore,  we  might  approxi- 
mately fix  the  date  of  Franklin's  invention  as  not  later 
than  1761;  and  thus  it  appears  why  I  brought  Gold- 
smith's words  into  connection  with  Franklin's  Musical 
Glasses. 

After  creating  quite  a  sensation  in  England,  Miss 
Davies  went  to  the  Continent  with  her  sister  Cecilia, 
a  vocalist  of  some  fame.  The  performances  of  the  two 
sisters  took  the  Continental  public  by  storm.  Especially 
in  Vienna  they  were  received  with  the  utmost  appro- 
bation. Metastasio,  the  court  poet,  in  a  letter  dated 
Jan.  16,  1772,  described  the  beautiful  tone  of  the  instru- 
ment   and    the    admirable    manner    in    which    Cecilia 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  65 

assimilated  her  voice  to  it,  so  as  to  render  it  difficult 

to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other  (see  Grove). 

Mr.  Jared  Sparks  informs  us  in  his  life  of  Franklin 

(1840,  p.  264)  that  the  two  sisters  performed  an  Ode, 

written  by  Metastasio  and  composed  by  the  not  less 

famous  Hasse,  in  the  presence  of  the  Imperial  Court  of 

Vienna  at  the  celebration  of  the  nuptials  of  the  Duke  of 

Parma  and  the  Arch-Duchess  of  Austria,  and  he  printed 

the  Ode  from  a  manuscript  copy  found  among  Franklin's 

papers. 

POESIA 

Per  L'Occasione  Delle  Nozze  Del  Real  Infante  Duca  Di  Parma 
Con  L'Archiduchessa  D'Austria,  Cantata  In  Vienna  Dalla  Cecilia 
Davies,  Detta  L'Inglesina,  Sorella  Dell'Eccellente  Sonatrice  Del 
Nuovo  Istrumento  L'Armonica,  Inventato  Dal  Celebre  Dottore 
Franklin. 

Ah  perche  col  canto  mio, 
Dolce  all'  alma  ordir  catena 
Pe  che  mai  non  posso  anch'io, 
Filomena,  al  par  di  te? 

S'oggi  all'aure  un  labbro  spande 
Rozzi  accenti,  e  troppo  audace; 
Ma,  se  tace  in  di  si  grande, 
Men  colpevole  non  e. 

Ardir,  germana;  a  tuoi  sonori  adatta 
Volubili  cristalli 

L'esperta  mano;  e  ne  risveglia  il  raro 
Concento  seduttor.    Col  canto  anch'  io 
Tentero  d'imitarne 
L'amoroso  tenor.     D'applausi  e  voti 
Or  che  la  Parma  e  l'lstro 
D'Amalia  e  di  Fernando 
Agli  augusti  imenei  tutto  risuona, 
Saria  fallo  il  tacer.    Ne  te  del  nuovo 
Armonica  strumento 
Renda  dubbiosa  il  lento, 
II  tenue,  il  flebil  suono.     Abbiasi  Marte 

I  suoi  d'ire  ministri 
Strepitosi  oricalchi;  una  soave 
Armonia,  non  di  sdegni 

Ma  di  teneri  affetti  eccitatrice, 

Piii  conviene  ad  amor';  meglio  accompagna 

Quel  che  dall'  alma  bella 

Si  trasfonde  sul  volto 

Alia  Sposa  Real  placido  lume, 

II  benigno  costume, 

La  dolce  maesta.     Benche  sommesso 


66 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Lo  stil  de'  nostri  accenti 

A  Lei  grato  sara;  che  l'umil  suono 

Non  e  colpo  o  difetto; 

E  sempre  in  suono  umil  parla  il  rispetto. 

Alia  stagion  de'  fiori 
E  de'  novelli  amori 
E  grato  il  molle  fiato 
D'un  zeffiro  leggier. 

0  gema  tra  le  fronde, 
O  lento  increspi  l'onde; 
Zeffiro  in  ogni  lato 
Compagno  e  del  piacer. 

Questa  cantata  fu  scritta  dal  Abate  Pietro  Metastasio,  e  messa 
in  musica  da  Giovanni  Adolfo  Hasse,  detto  il  Sassone. 

Gradually  Marianne's  nerves  became  so  seriously 
affected  by  her  performance  on  the  Armonica  (so 
frequent  a  result  of  continued  performance  on  the 
instrument  as  to  have  occasioned  official  prohibition 
of  its  use  in  many  Continental  towns),  that  she  was 
compelled  to  retire  from  her  profession.  She  died  in 
1792. 

It  is  quite  in  keeping  with  the  sensation  created  by 
the  Armonica  that  Miss  Davies  did  not  remain  without 
rivals.  The  Almanack  fur  Deutschland  auf  das  Jahr  1782 
mentions  among  "Clever  instrumental  artists  in  Ger- 
many" who  performed  on  the  Armonica  one  Fricke, 
Court  Organist  of  the  Markgraf  von  Baden-Baden,  and 
a  certain  Rollig  and  Marianna  Kirchgaessner,  a  blind 
musician  born  1770  in  Waldhausel  near  Bruchsal,  who 
seems  to  have  been  hardly  less  popular  than  Miss 
Marianne  Davies. 

Of  course,  the  Armonica  was  not  unknown  in  our 
country.  Though  I  do  not  know  how  the  Northern 
Colonies  took  to  it  before  the  war,  I  have  at  least  evi- 
dence that  it  was  looked  upon  with  favor  and  interest 
in  the  Middle  and  Southern  Colonies.  Naturally  we 
turn  to  gay  old  Virginia  if  we  desire  to  find  the  latest 
English  fads  and  fashions  imported  to  the  Colonies. 
We    look    into    Glenn's    charming    work    on    Colonial 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  67 

Mansions,  and  read  on  every  page  that  the  Cavaliers 
of  Virginia,  their  dames  and  damsels,  laid  much  stress 
upon  being  as  little  provincial  as  possible;  and  in  the 
description  of  Councillor  Robert  Carter's  mansion 
Nomini  Hall  we  find  a  passage  in  Mr.  Carter's  notebook 
where  he  graphically  describes  one  of  the  wonderful 
new  instruments,  invented  by 

Mr.  B.  Franklin  of  Philadelphia  an  Armonica,  being  the  musical 
glasses  without  water,  framed  into  a  complete  instrument  capable 
of  thorough  bass  and  never  out  of  tune. 

That  the  Councillor  was  proficient  on  "the  musical 
glasses  without  water,"  and  loved  them,  we  know  from 
an  equally  delightful  book,  Philip  Vickers  Fithian's 
"Journal  and  Letters." 

Fithian  was  tutor  at  Nomini  Hall  from  1773  to  1774, 
and  his  Journal  abounds  in  musical  items  showing 
that  if  there  ever  lived  a  sincere  lover  of  music  it  was 
the  Councillor. 

"He  has  a  good  ear  for  Music,  "says  Fithian,  "a  vastly  delicate 
Taste  and  keeps  good  Instruments;  he  has  here  at  Home  a  Harpsi- 
chord, Forte  Piano,  Harmonica,  Guitar  &  German  Flute,  &  at 
Williamsburg  has  a  good  Organ,  he  himself  also  is  indefatigable  in 
the  Practice." 

In  the  person  of  Mr.  Stadley  he  seems  to  have  had, 
we  might  say,  a  court  musician  of  no  mean  ability,  he 
too  being  a  skilled  performer  on  the  Armonica.  That 
the  two  gentlemen,  whether  playing  solos  or  duets, 
had  an  attentive  and  enthusiastic  listener  in  Fithian, 
his  journal  proves  on  more  than  one  page,  and  the 
Musical  Glasses  especially  seem  to  have  impressed 
him  deeply.  I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  his  naive 
opinion  of  the  same,  as  it  is  a  proof  that  Franklin's 
instrument  found  fervent  admirers  in  our  country  as 
well  as  abroad: 

Wednesday,  22  Dec.  (1773)  .  .  .  Evening.  Mr.  Carter  spent 
in  playing  on  the  Harmonica;  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard  the 
Instrument.  The  Music  is  charming!  The  notes  are  clear  and  in- 
expressibly   soft,    they   swell,    and    are    inexpressibly   grand;   and 


68 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

either  it  is  because  the  sounds  are  new,  and  therefore  pleased  me, 
or  it  is  the  most  captivating  Instrument  I  have  ever  heard.  The 
sounds  very  much  resemble  the  human  voice^  and  in  my  opinion 
they  far  exceed  even  the  swelling  Organ. 

But,  about  ten  years  prior  to  Fithian's  enthusiastic 

criticism,  the  music-lovers  of  Philadelphia  had  occasion 

to  thank  Benjamin  Franklin  personally  for  the  pleasure 

his    instrument    afforded    them.      I    copied    from    the 

Pennsylvania  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  27,  1764,  the 

following  advertisement: 

For  the  Benefit  of  Mr.  Forage,  and  other  Assistant  Performers 
at  the  Subscription  Concert  in  this  city,  on  Monday,  the  31st.  of 
this  instant  December,  at  the  Assembly  Room  in  Lodge  Alley, 
will  be  performed  A  CONCERT  OF  MUSIC:  consisting  of  a 
Variety  of  the  most  celebrated  Pieces  now  in  Taste,  in  which  also 
will  be  introduced  the  famous  Armonica,  or  Musical  Glasses,  so 
much  admired  for  the  great  Sweetness  and  Delicacy  of  its  Tone. 
Tickets  at  7s.  6d.  each. 

Mr.  Forage  seems  to  have  been  the  first  musician  to 

introduce  the  Armonica  in  our  country,  and  it  is  quite 

possible  that  we  owe  to  him  George  Washington's  entry 

for  April  2,  1765,  at  Williamsburg,  Va.,  "By  my  Exps. 

to  hear  the  Armonica,  3.  9."     In  1774  a  Signora  Castella 

appeared  in  concert  on  the  instrument  at  Charleston, 

S.  C.     About  the  same  time,  and  later,  George  James 

L'  Argeau  made  a  specialty  of  it  for  many  years.     He 

taught  at  his  "Musical  Room"  in  Baltimore 

Violencello,  Bassoon,  Harpsichord,  Pianoforte,  German  Flute,  Oboe, 
Clarionet,  French  Horn,  and  Guitar. 

— a   really    formidable   array    of    instruments — besides 

dancing  and  fencing ;  and  he  advertised  in  the  Maryland 

Gazette   (Annapolis,  October  6,    1774)   his  intention  of 

performing  on  the  Musical  Glasses 

That  harmonic  instrument  every  day,  between  the  hours  of  3 
and  6  in  the  afternoon,  next  door  to  Mr.  Aikman's  circulating 
library.  .  .  half  a  dollar  each. 

And  as  late  as  1790  he  ends  an  advertisement  in  the 
Maryland  Journal,  Baltimore,  July  23,  by  saying: 

The  Musical  Glasses  are  performed  to  any  Number  of  Ladies 
and  Gentlemen,  by  giving  timely  Notice. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE  69 

A  few  years  later,  the  versatile  P.  A.  Van  Hagen 
played  at  a  concert  at  New  York  in  March,  1794,  his 
own  "Concerto  (by  particular  desire)  on  the  Carillion, 
or  Musical  Glasses,"  the  "or"  being  a  little  puzzling 
since  carillons  are  not  exactly  made  of  glass,  but  perhaps 
the  added  i  made  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between 
a  carillon  and  a  carrillion.  Then  there  was  also  Mr. 
John  Christopher  Moller,  who,  with  Messrs.  Capron, 
Carr,  Gillingham  and  Reinagle,  played  a  prominent 
part  in  the  musical  life  of  Philadelphia,  advertised  in 
Dunlap's  American  Daily  Advertiser,  1795,  May  4th, 
for  the  following  day  a  "Miscellaneous  Concert.  .  . 
under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Moller  at  which  will  be 
introduced  the  Harmonica."     The  interesting  program 

reads : 

Act  I. 

Overture Haydn 

Song  arranged  for  Harmonica  by Moller 

Quintetto Pleyel 

Concerto  Violin Gillingham 

Full  Piece Pleyel 

Act  II. 

Overture Pleyel 

Quartetto,  Harmonica,  Two  Tenors  and  Violincello  by.... Moller 

Concerto  Violincello Manell  [Menel] 

Fantasia  Pianoforte Moller 

Finale Haydn 

Mr.  Forage's  instrument  certainly  was  a  copy  of 
Franklin's,  and  Mr.  Moller's  instrument  might  already 
have  shown  some  of  the  improvements  attempted  by 
the  Abbe  Mazzuchi  on  account  of  "the  many  and  great 
inconveniences  in  the  Harmonica  of  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Franklin,"  for  Moller  adds  to  his  remarks  quoted  from 
the  Phila.  Gazette,  April  3,  1795, 

This  instrument  since  so  much  improved  in  Europe,  by  the 
first  artists,  is,  in  point  of  tone  and  sweet  harmony,  second  to  none, 
and  in  performance  of  modulation  from  which  it  derives  its  name 
not  excelled  by  any  other. 

That  Mons.  Jacobus  Pick  used  one  of  Mazzuchi's 
instruments  for  his  performances  on  the  Musical  Glasses 


70 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

at  Boston  and  elsewhere,  from  1792  on,  appears  probable 
from  his  playing  a  "Sonata  on  the  Italian  Harmonica 
with  several  known  airs"  at  Petersburg,  Va.,  June  25, 
1795. 

One  of  the  principal  modifications,  according  to 
Forkel's  Mus.  Krit.  Bibliothek  (1779),  was  to  produce 
the  tones  with  a  fiddle-bow  instead  of  using  the  fingers. 
Mazzuchi  also  made  experiments  with  wooden  boxes, 
which  are  said  to  have  produced  tones  similar  to 
those  of  the  flute.  Equally  ingenious  was  the  above- 
mentioned  Fricke's  project  (1769)  to  apply  a  keyboard 
to  the  instrument.  That  the  same  idea  occurred  in 
1786,  independently,  to  Francis  Hopkinson,  I  have 
demonstrated  in  my  book  on  him.  The  arch-democrat 
Thomas  Jefferson  was  so  pleased  with  his  project  that 
in  his  opinion  (expressed  in  a  letter  from  Paris,  December 
23,  1786)  its  success  would  be  "the  greatest  present 
which  has  been  made  to  the  musical  world  this  century, 
not  excepting  the  pianoforte."  Hopkinson  claimed  a 
few  months  later,  in  his  letters  to  Jefferson,  that  he 
had  successfully  "applied  Keys  to  the  Glasses,  furnished 
with  artificial  Fingers";  but  he  also  admitted  partial 
failure  because  "it  required  too  much  Address  in  the 
manner  of  wetting  the  Cushions  for  Common  Use." 
Whether  or  no  he  resumed  his  experiments  after  Jefferson 
(in  his  letter  from  Paris,  May,  8,  1788)  told  him  of 
having  seen  "a  very  simple  improvement"  in  the  matter 
of  wetting  the  glasses  ("by  a  piece  of  woolen  cloth 
pasted  on  the  edge  of  the  case  in  front  and  touching 
the  glasses"),  I  do  not  know. 

All  this,  and  the  fact  that  the  Armonica  formed 
part  of  the  Court  Orchestra  at  Darmstadt,  that  C.  F. 
Pohl  was  engaged  there  exclusively  for  the  instrument 
as  late  as  1818,  that  Johann  Gottlieb  Naumann,  a 
famous  composer  of  the  eighteenth  century,  played  it 
and  wrote  six  sonatas  for  it,  that  Mozart  composed — 
probably    in    1780 — an    Adagio    for    Harmonica    in    C 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE  71 

major,  and,  on  May  23d,  1791,  for  Marianna  Kirch- 
gaessner,  an  unpublished  "Adagio  und  Rondo  fur  Har- 
monica, Flote,  Oboe,  Viola  und  Violoncello"  which  his 
biographer  Otto  Jahn  calls  remarkable  for  the  blending 
of  the  instruments, — I  mention  all  this,  and  that  even 
Beethoven  composed  a  little  melodramatic  piece  for 
the  Armonica  for  the  "Leonora  Prohaska"  of  his  friend 
Duncker  in  1814  or  1815,  published  for  the  first  time 
in  Grove's  Dictionary,  because  these  facts  show  the 
remarkable  influence  Franklin  and  his  Armonica  once 
had  on  the  lovers  of  musical  curiosities. 

Those  interested  in  further  particulars  concerning  the 
history  of  the  instrument,  obsolete  for  the  past  eighty 
years,  will  find  them  in  the  "History  of  the  Harmonica" 
published  by  Karl  Ferdinand  Pohl,  (the  son  of .  the 
virtuoso)  in  1862,  though  he  is  silent  on  Hopkinson's 
ingenious  experiments. 

Undoubtedly,  Franklin  himself  was  proficient  on  his 
instrument.  But  if  the  Armonica  ruined  the  nerves  of 
other  performers — and  this  probably  was  the  main 
reason  for  its  short  life  of  only  sixty  years — Franklin 
seems  not  to  have  suffered  from  these  bad  effects.  The 
late  Paul  Leicester  Ford,  devoting  four  pages  in  his 
book  on  the  Many-Sided  Franklin  to  the  musical  side, 
wrote : 

He  himself  took  great  pleasure  in  playing  upon  it,  and  an  amusing 
glimpse  is  obtained  of  him  during  his  last  years  through  a  paragraph 
in  one  of  his  letters,  in  which  he  says:  "Mr.  Pagin  did  me  the  honor 
of  visiting  me  yesterday.  He  is  assuredly  one  of  the  best  men 
possible,  for  he  had  the  patience  to  listen  to  me  playing  an  air  on 
the  Armonica,  and  to  hear  it  to  the  end." 

Again,  Mme.  Brillon,  seeking  to  tempt  him  to  her  home,  promises 
that  "Father  Pagin  will  play  the  God  of  Love  on  the  violin,  I  the 
march  on  the  piano,  you  Little  Birds  on  the  harmonica";  and  the 
same  writer,  in  describing  their  future  life  in  heaven,  prophesies 
that  "Mr.  Mesmer  will  be  contented  with  playing  on  the  har- 
monica without  boring  us  with  electric  fluid." 

Finally,  while  Mr.  Sparks  informed  us  that  Metastasio 
was  officially  called  upon  to  write  an  ode  in  honor  of 
Marianne  Davies,  I  am  able  to  furnish  an  ode  written 


72 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

in  praise  of  Franklin's  own  performances  on  the  Ar- 
monica — and  not  par  ordre  de  Mufti.  It  might  not 
be  interesting  as  a  poetical  effort,  but  is  interesting  in 
this  connection  and  as  a  poetical  effusion  of  one  of  our 
earliest  American  poets.  It  is  to  be  found  in  Nathaniel 
Evans'  "Poems  on  Several  Occasions — Philadelphia, 
Printed  by  John  Dunlap,  in  Market  Street,  1772"; 
and  reads: 

TO  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  ESQ.,  LL.D. 

Occasioned  by  hearing  him  playing  on  the  Harmonica. 

In  grateful  wonder  lost,  long  had  we  view'd 

Each  gen'rous  act  thy  patriot  soul  pursu'd; 

Our  little  State  resounds  thy  just  applause, 

And,  pleas'd,  from  thee  new  fame  and  honour  draws; 

In  thee  those  various  virtues  are  combin'd, 

That  form  the  true  preeminence  of  mind. 

What  wonder  struck  us  when  we  did  survey 

The  lambent  lightnings  innocently  play, 

And  down  thy  rods  beheld  the  dreaded  fire 

In  a  swift  flame  descend — and  then  expire; 

While  the  red  thunders,  roaring  loud  around, 

Burst  the  black  clouds,  and  harmless  smite  the  ground. 

Blest  use  of  art!  apply'd  to  serve  mankind, 
The  noble  province  of  the  sapient  mind! 
For  this  the  soul's  best  faculties  were  giv'n, 
To  trace  great  nature's  laws  from  earth  to  heav'n! 

Yet  not  these  themes  alone  thy  thoughts  command, 

Each  softer  SCIENCE  owns  thy  fostering  hand; 

Aided  by  thee,  Urania's  heav'nly  art, 

With  finer  raptures  charms  the  feeling  heart; 

Th'  HARMONICA  shall  join  the  sacred  choir, 

Fresh  transports  kindle,  and  new  joys  inspire. 

Hark!  the  soft  warblings,  sounding  smooth  and  clear, 

Strike  with  celestial  ravishment  the  ear, 

Conveying  inward,  as  they  sweetly  roll, 

A  tide  of  melting  music  to  the  soul; 

And  sure,  if  aught  of  mortal-moving  strain 

Can  touch  with  joy  the  high  angelic  train, 

'Tis  this  enchanting  instrument  of  thine, 

Which  speaks  in  accents  more  than  half  divine! 

The  Armonica,   however,   was  not  the  only   instru- 
ment Franklin  enjoyed  and  knew  how  to  play.     Mr. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE  73 

Ford  claims  that  previous  to  the  development  of  the 
Armonica  he  also  knew  how  to  play  on  the  harp, 
the  guitar,  and  the  violin;  and  Mr.  Parton  adds  to 
these  instruments  the  violoncello.  I  have  been  unable 
to  verify  Franklin's  proficiency  on  the  violoncello  and 
violin,  but  he  may  have  been  a  harpist,  for  in  France 
a  friend  wrote  him  that  he  had  "searched  for  harps 
everywhere  without  being  able  to  find  any."  Certainly, 
Franklin,  like  most  gentlemen  of  his  time,  knew  how 
to  play  on  the  guitar.  "I  shall  never  touch  the  strings 
of  the  British  lyre  without  remembering  my  British 
friends,  and  particularly  the  kind  giver  of  the  instru- 
ment," he  wrote  from  Philadelphia  (Dec.  7,  1762)  to 
Mr.  Whiteford,  who  congratulated  him  upon  the 
marriage  of  his  son  William.  He  even  offered  his 
services  as  a  guitar-teacher  to  Leigh  Hunt's  mother, 
but  she  was  too  bashful  to  become  his  pupil — so  her 
son  informs  us  in  his  autobiography. 

So  much  on  Benjamin  Franklin  as  the  "inventor"  of 
the  Armonica  and  as  a  "virtuoso."  But  what  did  he 
mean  in  his  letter  to  Padre  Beccaria  by  "Italian  music 
— of  the  soft  and  plaintive  kind"?  As  this  letter  was 
written  in  1762,  his  knowledge  of  Italian  music  naturally 
was  restricted  to  what  was. known  of  it  in  the  colonies, 
and  especially  in  Philadelphia. 

The  opinion  has  prevailed  that  the  musical  life  of 
America  was  exceedingly  primitive  during  the  eighteenth 
century,  but  a  few  degrees  less  so  in  sacred  music  than 
in  secular.  To  be  sure,  our  early  musical  life  had  a 
rather  provincial  aspect  if  compared  with  that  of  Lon- 
don, Paris,  Vienna  or  Rome,  but  it  was  by  no  means  so 
primitive  as  historians  usually  picture  it.  As  a  rule, 
they  make  the  great  mistake  of  observing  things  through 
a  New  England  church  window  instead  of  studying 
more  than  superficially  the  secular  music  of  "ye  olden 
time"  in  the  Middle  and  Southern  Colonies.  Their 
treatment  of  the  subject  did    more  harm  than  good. 


74 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Our  early  musical  life  was  provincial,  but  not  so  primi- 
tive as  to  deserve  to  be  ridiculed.  And  if  it  is  to  be 
called  primitive  and  crude,  our  early  sacred  music  de- 
serves this  verdict  more  than  the  secular. 

We  had  more  x>r  less  regular  operatic  seasons  in  New- 
York,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Annapolis,  Charleston, 
the  repertoire  consisting,  of  course,  mostly  of  English 
ballad-operas  and,  later,  a  few  French  and  Italian  operas 
translated  into  English,  for  instance  Pergolesi's  "La 
Serva  Padrona."  We  had  regular  orchestral  subscrip- 
tion or  amateur  concerts;  we  had  musical  societies;  we 
did  not  neglect  chamber  music,  and  music  played  a 
prominent  part  at  all  College  Commencements.  The 
German  flute,  the  guitar,  the  harpsichord — the  fashion- 
able instruments  of  the  time — the  pianoforte,  the  violin, 
the  bass-viol,  were  not  missing  in  well-to-do  families  of 
Colonial  times.  Not  even  the  strolling  Italian  and 
French  virtuosos  were  wanting,  nor  the  blessed  "Wun- 
derkinder." 

About  1760  the  musical  life  of  Philadelphia  depended 
more  or  less  on  such  "imported"  musicians  as  Albert, 
Bremner,  Fyring,  John  Schneider,  Forage  and  Gualdo, 
and  native  amateur  musicians  like  Governor  Penn  and 
Francis  Hopkinson,  the  first  American  composer.  It  is 
easy  to  ridicule  their  talent  and  ability,  but  it  is  difficult 
to  deny  the  fact  that  under  their  guidance  the  music 
of  Leo,  Galuppi,  Pergolesi,  Corelli,  Geminiani,  not  to 
mention  minor  lights,  or  of  the  then  fashionable  British 
composers,  or  of  the  German  masters  Gluck,  Hasse, 
Handel,  was  sold,  taught,  played  and  enjoyed  in 
America. 

These  facts  throw  some  light  upon  Franklin's  seeming- 
ly odd  words.  At  least  they  go  to  show  what  kind  of 
music  he  might  have  known  and  enjoyed,  if  really  in- 
terested in  music.  If  his  share  in  a  musical  invention 
alone  renders  his  interest  undeniable,  it  can  be  traced 
through  all  his  writings. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  75 

While  at  Bethlehem  in  1757,  studying  the  institutions 
of  the  Moravians,  he  evidently  took  an  interest  in  their 
highly  developed  musical  life.  He  says  in  his  auto- 
biography : 

I  was  at  their  church,  where  I  was  entertained  with  good  musick, 
the  organ  being  accompanied  with  violins,  hautboys,  flutes,  clarinets, 
etc. 

From  a  household  letter,  written  to  his  wife,  June  22, 
1767,  in  London,  we  know  that  even  his  house  was  not 
without  relations  to  music.  He  gives  her  instructions 
about  the  "blue  room,"  telling  her  to  "let  the  papier 
mache  musical  figures  be  tacked  to  the  middle  of  the 
ceiling."  If  his  various  instruments  were  located  in 
this  "blue  room,"  as  we  may  suppose,  it  must  have 
had  quite  a  musical  atmosphere,  especially  when 
crowded  with  friends  who  came  to  hear  him  perform 
on  the  musical  glasses. 

That  Franklin  attended  concerts  and  operatic  per- 
formances while  abroad  is  certain,  and  it  seems  as  if 
he  saw  Handel  conduct  The  Messiah  for  the  last  time, 
eight  days  before  his  death,  on  the  sixth  of  April,  1759. 
At  least,  I  reach  this  conclusion  from  the  following 
remarks  in  Mr.  James  Parton's  biography  of  Franklin 
(I,  pp.  260-262,  397): 

Franklin  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  sublime  old  man,  one  of 
the  sturdiest  characters  of  modern  times,  led  to  the  organ  for  the 
last  time,  and  conduct  one  of  his  own  works.  He  heard  Handel's 
oratorios  and  his  now  forgotten  operas,  always  with  admiration, 
but  not  with  blind  admiration. 

The  same  historian  lays  some  stress  upon  the  fact 
that  Franklin  was  fond  of  social  gatherings  and  always 
ready  to  do  his  part  with  jest,  anecdote  and  song,  and 
that  he  was  especially  fond  of  Scotch  songs. 

Three  songs  that  he  used  to  sing  are  known  to  us.  One  was 
the  "The  Old  Man's  Wish,"  which  he  says  he  sang  "a  thousand 
times  in  his  singing  days." 


76 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Another  of  his  songs  was  "My  Plain  Country  Joan,"  a  long 
ditty,  written  by  himself  in  praise  of  his  own  wife. 

Of  their  Chloes  and  Phyllises  poets  may  prate, 

I  sing  my  plain  country  Joan, 
These  twelve  years  my  wife,  still  the  joy  of  my  life, 

Blest  day  that  I  made  her  my  own.  (etc.) 

Another  song,  written  by  Franklin  in  the  Junto  days, 
and  often  sung  by  him  at  the  Junto  rooms,  the  entire 
club  joining  in  the  chorus,  is  in  a  different  strain. 

Franklin,  when  seventy  years  of  age,  mentioned  this 
third  song  in  a  letter  to  the  Abbe  de  la  Roche: 

"I  have,"  he  writes,  "run  over,  my  dear  friend,  the 
little  book  of  poetry  by  M.  Helvetius,  with  which  you 
presented  me.  The  poem  on  'Happiness'  pleased  me 
much,  and  brought  to  my  recollection  a  little  drinking 
song  which  I  wrote  forty  years  ago,  upon  the  same 
subject,  and  which  is  nearly  on  the  same  plan,  with 
many  of  the  same  thoughts,  but  very  concisely  expressed. 
It  is  as  follows: 

Singer:   Fair  Venus  calls;  Her  voice  obey. 

In  beauty's  arms  spend  night  and  day. 
The  joys  of  love  all  joys  excell 
And  loving  's  certainly  doing  well. 

Chorus:  Oh!     No! 
Not  so! 

For  honest  souls  know 
Friends  and  a  bottle  still  bear  the  bell." 

And  so  on  between  singer  and  chorus.  I  do  not  know 
whether  Franklin  himself  or  one  of  our  early  composers 
ever  tried  to  compose  this  jolly  drinking  song,  or, 
following  the  custom  of  the  time,  tried  to  adapt  some 
popular  tune  to  it.  I  believe  the  latter,  and  doubt 
very  much  that  Franklin  ever  tried  his  hand  at  com- 
position, as  Mr.  Ford  was  inclined  to  believe  on  the 
strength  of  a  letter  written  by  Mme.  Brillon,  in  which 
she  acknowledges  the  receipt  of  "your  music  engraved 
in  America." 

Mr.  Ford  adds  "that  it  has  not  been  possible  to 
identify  the  piece."     I  fancy  that  our  eminent  historian 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL  SIDE  77 

was  discovering  too  many  sides  in  Franklin  and  that, 
even  if  the  piece  should  be  identified,  the  discovery 
would  not  reveal  Franklin  as  a  composer.  Probably 
Mme.  Brillon's  words  refer  either  to  some  music  be- 
longing to  Franklin  and  engraved  in  America,  or  to 
some  music  engraved  by  Franklin  himself.  Perhaps 
some  of  the  works  mentioned  as  printed  by  Franklin  in 
Mr.  James  Warrington's  "Short  Titles  of  Books  relating 
to  or  illustrating  the  History  and  Practice  of  Psalmody 
in  the  United  States,  1620-1820  (1898,  Philadelphia)" 
contained  music  engraved  in  his  office.  At  any  rate, 
it  would  not  surprise  me  to  find  Franklin  an  engraver 
of  music.  He  might  have  had  some  knowledge  of  the 
trade,  having  been  a  journeyman  at  the  office  of  John 
Watts  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  a  British  music-publisher 
who  printed  a  "Musical  Miscellany"  in  six  volumes 
between  1729  and  1731,  that  is,  during  Franklin's 
employment  as  his  journeyman. 

It  would  have  been  easy  enough  for  Franklin  to 
find  a  composer,  as  he  took  a  lively  and  encouraging 
interest  in  the  beginnings  of  our  artistic  life,  and  as  he, 
from  some  letters,  appears  to  have  been  personally 
acquainted  with  our  early  painters,  poets  and  musicians. 
An  extract  from  his  letters  to  Mary  Stevenson,  Phila- 
delphia, March  25,  1763,  may  prove  this.     He  writes: 

After  the  first  cares  of  the  necessaries  of  life  are  over,  we  shall 
come  to  think  of  the  embellishments.  Already  some  of  our  young 
geniuses  begin  to  lisp  attempts  at  painting,  poetry  and  music. 
The  manuscript  piece  is  by  a  young  friend  of  mine,  and  was  oc- 
casioned by  the  loss  of  one  of  his  friends,  who  lately  made  a  voyage 
to  Antigua  to  settle  some  affairs  previous  to  an  intended  marriage 
with  an  amiable  young  lady  here,  and  unfortunately  died  there. 
I  send  it  to  you  because  the  author  is  a  great  admirer  of  Mr.  Stanley's 
musical  compositions,  and  has  adapted  this  piece  to  an  air  in  the 
sixth  concerto  of  that  gentleman,  the  sweet  solemn  movement  of 
which  he  is  quite  enraptured  with.  He  has  attempted  to  compose 
a  recitative  for  it,  but  not  being  able  to  satisfy  himself  in  the  bass, 
wishes  I  could  get  it  supplied.  If  Mr.  Stanley  would  condescend 
to  do  that  for  him,  he  would  esteem  it  as  one  of  the  highest  honors, 
and  it  would  make  him  excessively  happy.  You  will  say  that  a 
recitative  can  be  but  a  poor  specimen  of  our  music.  It  is  the  best 
and  all  I  have  at  present,  but  you  may  see  better  hereafter. 


78 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Inasmuch  as  James  Lyon  and  Francis  Hopkinson, 
both  in  Philadelphia  in  1763,  had  already  won  some 
reputation  in  America  as  composers  and  compilers,  it 
may  seem  strange  that  Franklin  does  not  mention 
them,  though  he,  as  a  printer,  must  have  noticed  the 
publication  of  Lyon's  "Urania"  in  1762  and  Hopkinson's 
"An  Exercise"  in  1761.  Perhaps  he  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  mention  their  crude  efforts  when  talking 
of  a  fashionable  European  composer  like  John  Stanley, 
to  whom  the  great  Handel  bequeathed  part  of  his 
library. 

I  have  dwelt  upon  all  these  minor  details  in  order 
to  show  that  Benjamin  Franklin  possessed  a  keen 
interest  for  music  and  a  certain  knowledge  of  its  litera- 
ture. But  so  far,  with  exception  of  his  traditional 
invention  of  the  musical  glasses,  he  did  not  surpass  the 
many  other  lovers  of  music  in  colonial  America.  The 
two  following  documents,  however,  place  him  high 
above  the  average  amateur,  not  only  of  his  own  country 
and  time,  but  of  Europe  and  to-day. 

The  first  letter  was  addressed  from  London,  June  2, 
1765,  to  the  philosopher  and  bet  esprit  Lord  Karnes  of 
Edinborough.  It  is,  in  my  opinion,  a  surprisingly 
original  and  important  document.  Here  the  American 
sage  appears  as  an  ardent  admirer  of  a  folk-lore  pure 
and  simple,  not  embellished  or  overloaded  with  modern 
"Verschlimmbesserungen,"  long  before  our  historians 
brought  similar  theories  into  practice.  Moreover, 
Franklin  expresses  ideas  on  melody,  usually  considered 
of  newest  date,  and  which  it  took  the  psychologists 
of  music  more  than  a  century  to  explain,  prove  and 
develop.  When  this  extremely  interesting  letter  was 
first  reprinted  in  Dwight's  Journal  of  Music  and  other 
reviews  from  Spark's  edition  of  Franklin's  works  in 
1856,  if  I  remember  the  year  correctly,  it  was  done  with 
a  benevolent"  smile.  The  letter  was  spoken  of  as  an 
antediluvian  curiosity  and  as  a  corpus  delicti  of  Franklin's 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  79 

musical  illiteracy.  How  surprised  would  these  writers 
be  to  hear  that  similar  theories,  though  in  a  clearer 
and  more  elaborate  form  and  without  certain  deviations 
from  the  correct  path,  have  been  formulated  by  such 
eminent  scientists  as  Karl  Stumpf  and  Hugo  Riemann! 
Benjamin  Franklin  wrote,  one  hundred  and  thirty-five 
years  ago: 

In  my  passage  to  America  I  read  your  excellent  work,  "The 
Elements  of  Criticism,"  in  which  I  found  great  entertainment. 
I  only  wish  that  you  had  examined  more  carefully  the  subject  of 
music,  and  demonstrated  that  the  pleasure  artists  feel  in  hearing 
much  of  that  composed  in  the  modern  taste  is  not  the  natural 
pleasure  arising  from  melody  or  harmony  of  sounds,  but  of  the 
same  kind  with  the  pleasure  we  feel  on  seeing  the  surprising  feats 
of  tumblers  and  rope-dancers,  who  execute  difficult  things.  For 
my  part,  I  take  this  really  to  be  the  case,  and  suppose  it  to  be  the 
reason  why  those  who  are  unpracticed  in  music,  and  therefore 
unacquainted  with  those  difficulties,  have  little  or  no  pleasure  in 
hearing  this  music.  I  have  sometimes,  at  a  concert,  attended  by 
a  common  audience,  placed  myself  so  as  to  see  all  their  faces,  and 
observed  no  signs  of  pleasure  in  them  during  the  performance  of  a 
great  part  that  was  admired  by  the  performers  themselves;  while 
a  plain  old  Scotch  tune,  which  they  disdained,  and  could  scarcely 
be  prevailed  on  to  play,  gave  manifest  and  general  delight. 

Give  me  leave,  on  this  occasion,  to  extend  a  little  the  sense  of 
your  position,  that  "melody  and  harmony  are  separately  agreeable 
and  in  union  delightful,"  and  to  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  the 
reason  why  the  Scotch  tunes  have  lived  so  long,  and  will  probably 
live  forever  (if  they  escape  being  stifled  in  modern  affected  orna- 
ment), is  merely  this,  that  they  are  really  compositions  of  melody 
and  harmony  united,  or  rather  that  their  melody  is  harmony. 
I  mean  the  simple  tunes  sung  by  a  single  voice.  As  this  will  appear 
paradoxical,  I  must  explain  my  meaning. 

In  common  acceptation,  indeed,  only  an  agreeable  succession  of 
sounds  is  called  melody,  and  only  the  coexistence  of  agreeable  sounds 
harmony.  But,  since  the  memory  is  capable  of  retaining  for  some 
moments  a  perfect  idea  of  the  pitch  of  a  past  sound,  so  as  to  compare 
with  it  the  pitch  of  a  succeeding  sound,  and  judge  truly  of  their 
agreement  or  disagreement,  there  may  and  does  arise  from  thence 
a  sense  of  harmony  between  the  present  and  past  sounds  equally 
pleasing  with  that  between  two  present  sounds. 

Now,  the  construction  of  the  old  Scotch  tunes  is  this,  that 
almost  every  succeeding  emphatical  note  is  a  third,  a  fifth,  an 
octave,  or,  in  short,  some  note  that  is  in  concord  with  the  pre- 
ceding note.  Thirds  are  chiefly  used,  which  are  very  pleasing 
concords.  I  use  the  word  emphatical  to  distinguish  those  notes 
which  have  a  stress  laid  on  them  in  singing  the  tune,  from  the 
lighter  connecting  notes  that  serve  merely,  like  grammar  articles 
in  common  speech,  to  tack  the  whole  thing  together. 

That  we  have  a  most  perfect  idea  of  sound  just  passed,  I  might 
appeal   to  all  acquainted  with   music,  who   know  how  easy  it  is 


80 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

to  repeat  a  sound  in  the  same  pitch  with  one  just  heard.  In 
tuning  an  instrument,  a  good  ear  can  as  easily  determine  that 
two  strings  are  in  unison  by  sounding  them  separately  as  by 
sounding  them  together;  their  disagreement  is  also  as  easily,  I 
believe  I  may  say  more  easily  and  better,  distinguished,  when 
sounded  separately,  for  when  sounded  together,  though  you  know 
by  the  beating  that  one  is  higher  than  the  other,  you  cannot  tell 
which  it  is.  I  have  ascribed  to  memory  the  ability  of  comparing 
the  pitch  of  a  present  tone  with  that  of  one  past.  But  if  there 
should  be,  as  possibly  there  may  be,  something  in  the  ear,  simi- 
lar to  what  we  find  in  the  eye,  that  ability  would  not  be  entirely 
owing  to  memory.  Possibly  the  vibrations  given  to  the  auditory 
nerves  by  a  particular  sound  may  actually  continue  some  time 
after  the  cause  of  those  vibrations  is  past,  and  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  of  a  subsequent  sound  becomes  by  comparison 
with  them  more  discernible. 

[Franklin  for  a  moment  leaves  the  musical  subject  and  explains 
similar  optical  phenomena,  stating  that  it  is  easier  to  retain  the 
impression  of  lines  than  of  colors.] 

Farther,  when  we  consider  by  whom  these  ancient  tunes  were 
composed  and  how  they  were  first  performed,  we  shall  see  that 
such  harmonical  successions  of  sounds  were  natural,  and  even 
necessary,  in  their  construction.  They  were  composed  by  the 
minstrels  of  those  days  to  be  played  on  the  harp,  accompanied 
by  the  voice.  The  harp  was  strung  with  wire,  which  gives  a  sound 
of  long  continuance,  and  had  no  contrivance  like  that  in  the  modern 
harpsichord,  by  which  the  sound  of  the  preceding  could  be  stopped 
the  moment  a  succeeding  note  began.  To  avoid  actual  discord 
it  was  therefore  necessary  that  the  succeeding  emphatical  note 
should  be  a  chord  with  the  preceding,  as  their  sounds  must  exist 
at  the  same  time.  Hence  arose  that  beauty  in  those  tunes  that 
has  so  long  pleased,  and  will  please  forever,  though  men  scarce 
know  why.  That  they  were  originally  composed  for  the  harp,  and 
of  the  most  simple  kind,  I  mean  a  harp  without  any  half  notes 
but  those  in  the  natural  scale  and  with  no  more  than  two  octaves 
of  strings,  from  C  to  C,  I  conjecture  from  another  circumstance, 
which  is,  that  not  one  of  those  tunes,  really  ancient,  has  a  single 
artificial  half  note  in  it,  and  that  in  tunes  where  it  was  most  con- 
venient for  the  voice  to  use  the  middle  notes  of  the  harp  and  place 
the  key  in  F,  then  the  B,  which,  if  used,  should  be  a  B  flat,  is  always 
omitted  by  passing  over  it  with  a  third.  The  connoisseurs  in  modern 
music  will  say  I  have  no  taste,  but  I  cannot  help  adding  that  I 
believe  our  ancestors,  in  hearing  a  good  song,  distinctly  articulated, 
sung  to  one  of  those  tunes  and  accompanied  by  the  harp,  felt  more 
real  pleasure  than  is  communicated  by  the  generality  of  modern 
operas,  exclusive  of  that  arising  from  the  scenery  and  dancing. 
Most  tunes  of  late  composition,  not  having  this  natural  harmony 
united  with  their  melody,  have  recourse  to  the  artificial  harmony 
of  a  bass  and  other  accompanying  parts.  This  support,  in  my 
opinion,  the  old  tunes  do  not  need,  and  are  rather  confused  than 
aided  by  it.  Whoever  has  heard  James  Oswald  play  these  on  his 
violoncello  will  be  less  inclined  to  dispute  this  with  me.  I  have 
more  than  once  seen  tears  of  pleasure  in  the  eyes  of  his  auditors; 
and  yet,  I  think,  even  his  playing  those  tunes  would  please  more,  if 
he  gave  them  less  modern  ornament. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE  81 

It  goes  without  saying  that  Franklin's  excursion  into 
the  history  of  music  was  not  very  lucky  and  that  his 
philippics  against  the  artificial  harmony  in  operas  must 
not  be  taken  too  literally;  but  his  closing  remarks 
certainly  prove  that  he  possessed  an  uncommonly  clear 
idea  of  the  true  character  of  folk-songs  and  of  the 
best  way  of  performing  them.  This  same  critical 
faculty  appears  in  a  letter  addressed  to  Peter  Franklin 
of  Newport.  It  is  without  date,  but  Bigelow  rightly 
published  it  among  the  London  letters  of  1765.  It  was 
first  published  in  the  Massachusetts  Magazine  for  July, 
1790  (p.  412-414),  under  the  title  "Criticism  on  Musick." 
As  a  "Criticism  on  Modern  Musick.  .  .  "  it  appeared 
in  the  Universal  Asylum  and  Columbian  Magazine  for 
August,  1790  (p.  97-99).     It  reads  as  follows: 

Dear  Brother:  I  like  your  ballad,  and  think  it  well  adapted 
for  your  purpose  of  discountenancing  expensive  foppery  and  en- 
couraging industry  and  frugality.  If  you  can  get  it  generally 
sung  in  your  country,  it  may  probably  have  a  good  deal  of  the 
effect  you  hope  and  expect  from  it.  But  as  you  aimed  at  making 
it  general,  I  wonder  you  chose  so  uncommon  a  measure  in  poetry 
that  none  of  the  tunes  in  common  use  will  suit  it.  Had  you  fitted 
it  to  an  old  one,  well  known,  it  must  have  spread  much  faster 
than  I  doubt  it  will  do  from  the  best  new  tune  we  can  get  composed 
for  it.  I  think,  too,  that  if  you  had  given  it  to  some  country  girl 
in  the  heart  of  Massachusetts,  who  has  never  heard  any  other 
than  psalm  tunes  or  "Chevy  Chase,"  the  "Children  in  the  Woods," 
the  "Spanish  Lady,"  and  such  old,  simple  ditties,  but  has  naturally 
a  good  ear,  she  might  more  probably  have  made  a  pleasing  popular 
tune  for  you  than  any  of  our  masters  here,  and  more  proper  to 
the  purpose,  which  would  best  be  answered  if  every  word  could, 
as  it  is  sung,  be  understood  by  all  that  hear  it,  and  if  the  emphasis 
you  intend  for  particular  words  could  be  given  by  the  singer  as 
well  as  by  the  reader;  much  of  the  force  and  impression  of  the 
song  depending  on  those  circumstances.  I  will,  however,  get  it 
as  well  done  for  you  as  I  can. 

Do  not  imagine  that  I  mean  to  depreciate  the  skill  of  our  com- 
posers of  music  here;  they  are  admirable  at  pleasing  practiced 
ears  and  know  how  to  delight  one  another,  but  in  composing  for 
songs  the  reigning  taste  seems  to  be  quite  out  of  nature,  or  rather 
the  reverse  of  nature,  and  yet,  like  a  torrent,  hurries  them  all 
away  with  it;  one  or  two,  perhaps,  only  excepted. 

You,  in  the  spirit  of  some  ancient  legislators,  would  influence  the 
manners  of  your  country  by  the  united  powers  of  poetry  and 
music.  By  what  I  can  learn  of  their  songs,  the  music  was  simple, 
conformed  itself  to  the  usual  pronunciation  of  words,  as  to  measure, 
cadence  or  emphasis,  etc.,   never  disguised   and  confounded   the 


82 


SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 


language  by  making  a  long  syllable  short,  or  a  short  one  long, 
when  sung;  their  singing  was  only  a  more  pleasing  because  a  melo- 
dious manner  of  speaking,  it  was  capable  of  all  the  graces  of  prose 
oratory,  while  it  added  the  pleasure  of  harmony.  A  modern  song, 
on  the  contrary,  neglects  all  the  proprieties  and  beauties  of  common 
speech,  and  in  their  place  introduces  its  defects  and  absurdities  as 
so  many  graces.  I  am  afraid  you  will  hardly  take  my  word  for 
this,  and  therefore  I  must  endeavour  to  support  it  by  proof.  Here 
is  the  first  song  I  lay  my  hand  on.  It  happens  to  be  a  composition 
of  one  of  our  greatest  masters,  the  ever  famous  Handel.  It  is  not 
one  of  his  juvenile  performances,  before  his  taste  could  be  improved 
and  formed;  it  appeared  when  his  reputation  was  at  the  highest, 
is  greatly  admired  by  all  his  admirers,  and  is  really  excellent  in 
its  kind.  It  is  called,  "The  additional  favorite  Song  in  Judas 
Maccabeus."  Now  I  reckon  among  the  defects  and  improprieties 
of  common  speech  the  following,  viz.: 

1.  Wrong  placing  the  accent  or  emphasis  by  laying  it  on  words 
of  no  importance  or  on  wrong  syllables. 

2.  Drawling;   or   extending   the   sound    of    words    or    syllables 
beyond  their  natural  length. 

3.  Stuttering;  or  making  many  syllables  of  one. 

4.  Unintelligibleness;  the  result  of  the  three  foregoing  united. 

5.  Tautology;  and 

6.  Screaming  without  cause. 

For  the  wrong  placing  of  the  accent  or  emphasis,  see  it  on  the 
word  their  instead  of  being  on  the  word  vain, 


with  their- 


vain,_  mys  -  te  -  rious art 


And  from  the  word  from,  and  the  wrong  syllable  like, 


God- like         wis  -  dom     from       a    -     bove 

For  the  drawling,  see  the  last  syllable  of  the  word  wounded. 


r  tg  r 


T£2 


Nor_     can       heal_     the       wound-ed heart. 

And  in  the  syllable  wis,  and  the  word  from  and  the  syllable  bove : 


rrr  I  M 


God-like         wis  -  dom        from. 


a  -    bove. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN'S  MUSICAL   SIDE 


83 


For  tr 

e  stuttering, 

see  the  words 

ne'er  relieve  in: 

— -T*  J  Cm 

• ■ — | 1 

tr 

• — | 

m 

~-**' 

mag-ic. 


charms  can      ne'er. re    -    lieve     you 


Here  are  four  syllables  made  of  one,  and  eight  of  three;  but 
this  is  moderate.  I  have  seen  in  another  song,  that  I  cannot  now 
find,  seventeen  syllables  made  of  three,  and  sixteen  of  one.  The 
latter,  I  remember,  was  the  word  charms,  viz.,  cha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a- 
a-a-a-a-a-a-a-arms.  Stammering  with  a  witness!  For  the  unin- 
telligibleness, give  this  whole  song  to  any  taught  singer,  and  let 
her  sing  it  to  any  company  that  have  never  heard  it.  You  shall 
find  they  will  not  understand  three  words  in  ten.  It  is,  therefore, 
that  at  the  oratorios  and  operas  one  sees  with  books  in  their  hands 
all  those  who  desire  to  understand  what  they  hear  sung  by  even 
our  best  performers. 

For  the  tautology,  you  have,  with  their  vain,  mysterious  art, 
twice  repeated;  magic  charms  can  ne'er  relieve  you,  three  times; 
Nor  can  the  wounded  heart,  three  times;  God-like  wisdom  from  above, 
twice,  and  this  alone  can  ne'er  deceive  you,  twice  or  three  times. 
But  this  is  reasonable  when  compared  with  the  Monster  Polypheme, 
the  Monster  Polypheme,  a  hundred  times  over  and  over  in  his 
admired  "Acis  and  Galatea." 

As  to  the  screaming,  perhaps  I  cannot  find  a  fair  instance  in 
this  song;  but  whoever  has  frequented  our  operas  will  remember 
many.  And  yet  there,  methinks,  the  words  no  and  e'er,  when 
sung  to  these  notes,  have  a  little  of  the  air  of  screaming,  and  would 
actually  be  screamed  by  some  singers. 

I  send  you  enclosed  the  song  with  its  music  at  length.  Read 
the  words  without  the  repetitions.  Observe  how  few  they  are,  and 
what  shower  of  notes  attend  them;  you  will  then,  perhaps,  be 
inclined  to  think  with  me  that,  though  the  words  might  be  the 
principal  part  of  an  ancient  song,  they  are  of  small  importance  in 
a  modern  one.    They  are,  in  short,  only  a  pretence  for  singing. 

I  am,  as  ever,  your  affectionate  brother, 

Benjamin  Franklin. 


P.  S. — I  might  have  mentioned  inarticulation  among  the  defects 
in  common  speech  that  are  assumed  as  beauties  in  modern  singing. 
But  as  that  seems  more  the  fault  of  the  singer  than  of  the  com- 
poser, I  omitted  it  in  what  related  merely  to  the  composition. 
The  fine  singer,  in  the  present  mode,  stifles  all  the  hard  consonants 
and  polishes  away  all  the  rougher  parts  of  words  that  serve  to 
distinguish  them  one  from  another;  so  that  you  can  hear  nothing 
but  an  admirable  pipe,  and  understand  no  more  of  the  song  than 
you  would  from  its  tune  played  on  any  other  instrument.  If  ever 
it  was  the  ambition  of  musicians  to  make  instruments  that  should 
imitate  the  human  voice,  that  ambition  seems  now  reversed,  the 
voice  aiming  to  be  like  an  instrument.  Thus  wigs  were  first  made 
to  imitate  a  good  natural  head  of  hair;  but  when  they  became 
fashionable,  though  in  unnatural  forms,  we  have  seen  natural  hair 
dressed  to  look  like  wigs. 


84 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

No  doubt,  Franklin  shows  a  remarkably  pure  taste 
in  this  polemical  essay.  Very  few  critics  and  professional 
musicians  had  or  have  equally  independent  esthetical 
reasoning  powers,  and  probably  contemporaneous  ar- 
tists, when  "talking  shop"  with  Franklin,  haughtily 
sneered  at  his  provincial  ideas.  The  modern  historian, 
however,  will  side  with  Franklin  and  agree  with  the 
lexicographers  Gerber,  Fetis,  and  Grove,  who  report 
that  he  possessed  a  deep  insight  into  musical  acoustics 
and  esthetics.  But  this  insight  certainly  was  not  due 
only  to  the  improvisatory  genius  and  instinct  of  a  many- 
sided  man.  It  is  clear  that  Franklin  must  have  given 
much  critical  thought  to  problems  in  music.  We  there- 
fore regret  that  his  writings  contain  comparatively  so 
little  on  this  art  and  that  his  discussions  of  musical 
matters  with  friends  musical  and  unmusical  have  not 
been  preserved.  Probably  his  remarks  on  other  sub- 
jects besides  folk-songs  and  the  harmonic  structure  of 
melodies  were  not  less  original.  Perhaps  he  foresaw 
the  music  of  the  future  in  more  than  one  respect,  for 
to-day  it  is  generally  admitted  that  Handel's  musical 
declamation  was  indeed  often  faulty,  like  that  of  many 
of  his  contemporaries.  If  the  composers  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  especially  the  song-composers  of  the 
last  thirty  years,  have  improved  upon  the  masters  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  it  is  not  because  they  possess 
greater  creative  powers,  but,  in  part,  because  they  pay 
more  attention  to  the  artistic  intermarriage  of  poetry 
and  music,  that  is,  because  they  seek  to  avoid  the 
defects  and  improprieties  of  musical  speech  so  ably 
pointed  out,  in  the  music  of  his  time,  by  Benjamin 
Franklin. 


MACDOWELL  VERSUS  MACDOWELL 


MACDOWELL  VERSUS  MACDOWELL 

A    STUDY   IN   FIRST   EDITIONS   AND   REVISIONS 

{Proceedings  of  the  Music  Teachers'  National  Association  for  1911) 

Remembering  that  as  yet  no  library  possesses  a 
complete  file  of  the  first  editions  of  our  classics,  Haydn, 
Mozart,  Beethoven,  etc.,  I  conceived  the  plan,  some 
years  ago,  of  assembling  in  the  Library  of  Congress,  as 
a  precautionary  measure  at  least,  a  complete  file  of 
the  first  editions  of  Edward  MacDowell,  the  foremost 
American  composer.  No  serious  obstacles  were  anti- 
cipated at  the  time,  but  the  simple  statement  that  we 
have  not  yet  reached  the  goal  permits  the  inference 
that  the  task  cannot  be  so  easy  as  it  looked  at  first. 

Surely  an  amazing  statement,  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
MacDowell's  earliest  published  work,  the  First  Modern 
Suite,  op.  10,  appeared  in  1883,  and  his  last,  the  New 
England  Idyls,  op.  62,  in  1902.  The  succeeding  years, 
until  his  pitifully  tragic  end  in  1908,  saw  the  inception 
of  several  new  works,  but  not  the  completion  of  any. 
Op.  1-9  (an  overture  for  orchestra,  pieces  for  violin 
and  piano,  etc.),  were  suppressed.  A  waltz  for  piano 
was  advertised  as  op.  8  in  1894  and  1895,  but  not 
published,  and  the  "Two  Old  Songs,"  published  as 
op.  9,  were  really  composed  about  ten  years  after  op. 
10.  Add  to  the  pieces  published  with  opus-numbers  the 
seven  published  under  the  pseudonym  of  Edgar  Thorn, 
seven  works  under  MacDowell's  own  name,  without 
opus-numbers,  some  twenty  part-songs,  and  about  forty 
piano  pieces  arranged  or  edited  by  him,  and  the  output 
is  still  far  from  voluminous.  Under  normal  circum- 
stances it  would  be  a  fairly  easy  matter  to  collect  the 
first  editions  of  about  one  hundred  works  of  any  com-. 
poser,  published,  as  it  were,  under  our  own  eyes,  ad- 

87 


88 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

vertised  in  musical  magazines,  duly  listed  in  the  biblio- 
graphic tools  of  the  music-dealer  and  musician,  and 
many  deposited  in  the  Library  of  Congress  for  purposes 
of  copyright. 

Under  the  fascinating  influence  of  MacDowell's  in- 
terpretation of  his  own  works — a  revelation  to  any  one 
who  might  have  had  his  doubts  as  to  MacDowell's 
genius  as  a  composer — I  took  up  what,  at  its  worst, 
looked  like  the  task  of  a  few  months.  Hardly  had  I 
commenced  compiling  a  preliminary  list  of  MacDowell's 
works  when  the  puzzles  began  to  crowd  each  other.  In 
my  despair,  I  took  the  shortest  way  imaginable  out  of 
the  difficulties,  and  in  1904  submitted  the  list  to  Mr. 
MacDowell  for  suggestions,  corrections,  and  additions. 
Ever  ready  to  help  and  to  encourage  others,  MacDowell, 
tired — indeed,  tired  to  death — as  he  was,  complied  with 
my  request.  It  was  after  the  receipt  of  his  marginal 
notes  that  I  first  fully  realized  the  hornet's  nest  of 
annoying,  trivial,  evasive  problems  which  I  had  ap- 
proached too  closely.  Neither  MacDowell  himself,  nor 
the  music-dealers  and  publishers  to  whom  we  subse- 
quently gave  purchasing  orders,  quite  understood  our 
object.  With  remarks  like  "new  edition  will  soon 
appear,"  "will  be  revised  by  me,"  "only  new  edition  is 
valuable,"  "all  these  are  now  A.  P.  Schmidt"  (to  whom 
P.  L.  Jung's  copyright  had  been  assigned  in  1899), 
"these  belong  to  me,"  "no  copyright  for  the  U.  S.  A.," 
"nicht  eingetragen,"  "no  copyright  in  America  at  that 
time,"  he  brushed  aside  (with  the  best  of  intentions, 
of  course)  the  very  things  which  I  desired  to  know. 
But  MacDowell's  marginal  notes  also  showed  that  there 
really  was  occasion  for  a  by  no  means  dry  piece  of 
bibliographic  research-work  which  might  also  have  a 
practical  value  beyond  the  merely  bibliographic  sphere 
of  interest. 

Here  is  a  concrete  example.  The  Library  of  Congress 
had  ordered   the  first  edition  of  MacDowell's   "Erste 


MACDOWELL    VERSUS  MACDOWELL 89 

moderne  Suite,"  op.  10,  published  by  Breitkopf  & 
Hartel  of  Leipsic  in  1883  with  the  publishers'  plate 
number  16205.  The  date  of  publication,  in  pursuance 
of  the  old  and  often-deplored  policy  of  music-publishers, 
does  not  appear  on  the  title-page.  Our  agent  therefore 
insisted  that  the  copy  sent  us  was  of  the  desired  first 
edition  because  it  contained  the  original  plate-number 
16205.  He  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  opening  page 
of  the  suite's  "Praeludium"  contained  the  claim  "Copy- 
right by  E.  A.  MacDowell,  1891."  This  is  the  copyright- 
date  of  the  "Neue  Ausgabe"  of  the  "Praeludium" 
published  separately  in  that  year.  Yet  this  particular 
copy  of  the  Suite,  though  it  included  the  "Neue  Ausgabe" 
of  the  "Praeludium,"  could  not  have  been  published 
even  in  1891,  much  less,  of  course,  in  1883.  And  this 
for  another  reason  overlooked  by  our  usually  very 
careful  agent.  The  title-page,  one  of  the  collective 
title-pages  so  popular  with  music-publishers,  refers  to 
E.  R.  Kroeger's  Suite,  op.  33,  which  was  not  copyrighted 
until  the  year  1896.  Consequently,  this  particular  issue 
of  MacDowell's  first  suite,  though  printed  from  the 
plates  of  the  first  edition  of  1883,  was  not  struck  off 
until  1896  at  the  earliest.  Now,  in  1891  there  appeared, 
also  separately,  the  "Intermezzo"  from  the  suite,  op.  10, 
but  in  a  "Neue,  vom  Componisten  umgearbeitete 
Ausgabe."  This  revised  edition,  augmented  from  86 
to  132  bars,  was  not  included  in  the  (circa)  1896  issue 
of  the  complete  suite,  but  it  was  included  in  the  edition 
copyrighted  in  1906.  The  other  movements,  too,  now 
contained  numerous  revisions  and  alterations.  The 
fact  of  revision  is  not  mentioned  on  the  title-page, 
which  is  exactly  the  same  as  the  title-page  of  the  (circa) 
1896  issue,  and  it  appears  only  in  the  following  rather 
confusing — because  partly  impossible — marginal  claim 
on  the  opening  page  of  the  "Praeludium":  "Revised  by 
Edward  MacDowell,  1906.  Copyright  by  Edward  Mac- 
Dowell, 1891.   Copyright,  1906,  by  Breitkopf  &  Hartel." 


90 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Wherein  the  revisions  consist,  only  he  can  tell  who 
happens  to  compare  the  three  editions,  bar  for  bar, 
which  is  not  likely  to  occur  outside  of  the  innermost 
circle  of  MacDowell  specialists.  Yet  such  a  comparison 
bears  directly  on  the  interpretation  of  MacDowell's 
suite.  The  following,  not  at  all  far-fetched,  hypothetical 
case  may  serve  to  illustrate  this.  Supposing  pianist 
A,  one  of  the  older  generation,  has  studied  the  suite  in 
the  first  edition  of  1883,  and  plays  it  thus  publicly. 
In  his  audience  sits  pianist  B,  who  has  studied  the  suite 
in  the  issue  of  1896,  and  the  critic  C,  who  knows  the 
suite  in  the  version  of  1906.  Would  it  not  be  entirely 
human  for  B  and  C  to  accuse  A  of  having  taken  extra- 
ordinary, inexcusable  liberties  with  MacDowell's  com- 
position? On  exchanging,  in  detail,  their  views  on  A's 
vandalism  or  lack  of  memory,  would  not  B  and  C  begin 
to  form  some  rather  decided  opinions  of  each  other's 
ignorance,  until  they  found  out  that  the  dissension 
was  due  only  to  the  pardonable  ignorance  of  A,  B,  and 
C  of  the  complicated  history  of  MacDowell's  suite? 

For  just  such  pitfalls  as  these,  the  bibliography  of 
MacDowell's  works  is  perhaps  the  most  complicated  of 
recent  times.  At  any  rate,  an  example  for  the  truth 
that  modern  music,  too,  is  replete  with  bibliographic 
puzzles,  and  of  a  kind  quite  foreign  to  older  music.  In 
MacDowell's  case,  "Copyright"  and  "Revised  editions" 
are  the  principal  instruments  which,  singly  or  in  com- 
bination, have  twisted  his  musical  output  into  such  a 
confusing  mass  of  conflicting  details. 

MacDowell  was  one  of  those  composers  who  retain  a 
fatherly  interest  in  their  works  even  after  publication. 
Eminently  of  a  self-critical  turn  of  mind,  he  would 
detect  flaws  in  his  published  compositions  and  found  no 
rest  until  he  had  given  them  that  finish  of  detail  which 
is  so  characteristic  of  his  art  at  its  best.  This  desire 
for  improvement,  this  (one  might  almost  say)  mania 
for  revision,  in  itself  does  not  usually  help  to  complicate 


MACDOWELL   VERSUS  MACDOWELL 91 

matters.  Such  revisions,  as  a  rule,  remain  hidden  in 
the  composer's  private  copies  and  do  not  reach  the 
public.  In  the  first  place,  comparatively  few  compo- 
sitions sell  well  enough  to  warrant  new  editions;  in  the 
second  place,  publishers,  unless  moved  by  strong  com- 
mercial reasons,  dread  the  expense  of  printed  revised 
editions.  Ordinarily  they  prefer  simply  to  strike  off  a 
fresh  supply  of  copies  from  the  unchanged  plates,  adding 
only  a  new  title-page  for  the  purposes  of  more  effective 
advertisement. 

Perhaps  the  steadily  growing  popularity  of  Mac- 
Dowell's  works  in  the  smaller  forms  would  have  furnished 
a  sufficient  commercial  incentive  to  his  publishers  to 
deviate  from  the  rule,  and  to  risk  the  expense  of  printing 
new  editions  with  all  those  revisions  and  improvements 
which  MacDowell's  maturing  mind  wished  to  embody 
in  his  earlier  compositions.  However,  the  same  result 
was  effected  by  considerations  of  a  more  practical 
nature.     These  were  considerations  of  copyright. 

Until  our  copyright-agreements  with  certain  foreign 
governments  went  into  effect  on  July  1,  1891,  music 
by  foreign  composers  published  in  foreign  countries 
could  not  be  protected  in  our  country  by  copyright. 
This  provision  of  the  law  was  clear,  at  least  by  inference. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  not  always  properly  understood. 
Hence,  if,  for  instance,  as  far  back  as  1846,  Schumann's 
"Vierzig  Clavierstiicke  fur  die  Jugend,"  published 
abroad,  contain  a  "New  York  Southern  District" 
copyright-claim  in  the  name  of  Schuberth  &  Co.  of 
New  York,  this  claim  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
copyright  curiosity,  and  quite  naturally  no  entry  will 
be  found  in  the  records  of  our  Copyright  Office.  Entirely 
different  was  the  situation  with  composers  who  were 
citizens  of  the  United  States.  The  law  did  not  stipulate 
that  their  compositions  must  have  been  published  in 
the  United  States  in  order  to  be  amenable  to  United 
States  copyright.     If  the  composer  was  an  American 


92 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

citizen,  his  works  could  be  copyrighted  in  our  country, 
no  matter  where  they  were  published,  provided  only 
that  certain  formalities  of  registration  had  been  observed, 
and  that  the  copyright  was  taken  out,  not  in  the  name 
of  the  foreign  publisher,  but  in  "that  of  the  American 
composer  or  in  the  name  of  any  other  American  citizen 
to  whom  the  composer  assigned  the  copyright.  There- 
fore, while  it  was  impossible  for  a  foreign  publisher  to 
claim  a  United  States  copyright  on  his  publications  of 
American  compositions,  it  was  entirely  possible  for 
the  American  composer  himself  or  an  American  publisher 
acting  as  his  copyright  assignee  to  do  so. 

If  this  liberality  of  the  copyright  law  as  in  force 
before  July  1,  1891,  had  been  properly  understood  by 
all  the  different  foreign  publishers  of  MacDowell's 
early  works,  there  would  have  been  no  necessity  later 
to  rush  to  cover,  and  it  would  not  be  a  fact  that  Mac- 
Dowell  was  powerless  to  prevent  reprints  by  the  whole- 
sale of  certain  of  his  early  works,  simply  because  the 
European  publishers  did  not  avail  themselves  of  Mac- 
Dowell's rights  as  an  American  citizen.  Some  of  his 
publishers  abroad,  however,  realized  their  and  his 
danger,  and  availed  themselves  of  the  law's  opportun- 
ities. This  explains  why  they  printed  title-pages 
with  dated  United  States  copyright-claims  in  the 
name  of  G.  Schirmer  of  New  York  below  their  own 
imprint.  Although  MacDowell,  in  his  marginal  notes 
mentioned  above,  says  of  his  "Idyllen,"  op.  28,  "nicht 
eingetragen"  (not  registered),  it  is  nevertheless  a  fact 
that  the  original  edition  bears  Schirmer's  copyright- 
claim  of  1887,  that  the  work  was  duly  registered, 
that  the  "Vier  Stucke,"  op.  24,  were  copyrighted 
in  the  same  year,  "Hamlet-Ophelia,"  op.  22,  in  1885; 
and  that  a  copyright-claim  in  MacDowell's  own  name 
appears  on  the  title-page  of  the  Pianoforte  Solostimme 
of  the  Second  Concerto,  op.  23  (1888),  and  of  op.  25, 
"Lancelot  and  Elaine"  (1888),  etc. 


MACDOWELL    VERSUS  MACDOWELL <tt 

Then  came  the  far-reaching  and  in  some  respects 
totally  different  copyright  law  of  1891.  At  last  it 
became  possible  for  those  European  publishers  who  had 
not  availed  themselves  of  their  previous  opportunities, 
to  protect  their  MacDowell  publications  against  possible 
reprint  in  the  United  States.  Not  the  original  editions, 
nor  mere  new  issues  from  the  unchanged  plates — that, 
too,  remained  impossible — but  editions  with  new  matter 
of  any  and  every  description,  whether  in  the  music,  in 
the  text,  in  the  interpretation-marks,  or  what  not — in 
brief,  revised  editions.  Thus  the  exigencies  of  the 
copyright  situation  afforded  an  opportunity  to  print 
copyrightable  new  editions  (which  presumably  would 
have  a  preferential  sale  over  the  old  editions),  with  the 
revisions  already  contemplated  by  the  composer.  Not 
only  this,  but  the  very  nature  of  the  situation  must 
have  prompted  the  publishers  to  impress  the  advis- 
ability of  revisions  of  the  more  popular  pieces  on  Mac- 
Dowell, in  his  interest,  in  theirs,  and  in  that  of  the 
public.  The  result  was  threefold — first,  a  complication 
of  the  purely  bibliographical  history  of  MacDowell's 
music,  second,  an  intensely  interesting  development  of 
the  music  itself,  and  third,  the  puzzles  growing  out  of 
the  combination  of  these  two  elements. 

I  have  prepared  a  bibliography  of  first  editions  of 
MacDowell  for  publication  by  the  Library  of  Congress. 
To  digest  the  results  in  the  form  of  a  lecture  would 
perhaps  be  possible,  but  to  do  so  without  going  into  a 
mass  of  details  in  themselves  uninteresting,  and  without 
endless  explanation  of  technical  terminology,  would  be 
impossible — at  any  rate,  for  me.  Therefore,  dispensing 
here  with  the  publisher's  side  of  the  matter,  I  shall 
limit  myself  to  "MacDowell  versus  MacDowell,"  and 
that,  again,  without  attempting  an  exhaustive  treatment 
of  the  theme.  The  idea  is  merely  to  cast  a  glance  into 
MacDowell's  workshop  and  to  contrast  some  of  the 
more  conspicuously  "revised"  editions  with  the  originals. 


94 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Such  revisions  as  are  for  the  eye  only,  and  not  for 
the  ear,  may  properly  be  disregarded;  that  is,  mere 
revisions  of  orthography.  They  are  not  infrequent. 
For  instance,  MacDowell  in  the  1895  edition  of  the 
"Drei  Lieder,"  op.  11,  changed  an  A-sharp  leading  to 
the  A  in  a  D-major  chord  to  B-flat,  or  in  the  1901 
edition  of  the  "Idyls,"  op.  28,  No.  3,  rewrote  a  chro- 
matic chord-passage  of  several  bars  in  stricter  obedience 
to  enharmonic  rules;  the  grammarian,  when  reading 
the  pieces,  will  be  delighted,  but  the  listener  is  none 
the  wiser.  To  a  similar  category  belong  the  instances 
where  MacDowell  has  redistributed  passages  or  even 
chords  for  the  hands,  and  has  added,  canceled,  or  changed 
the  fingering.  More  significant,  though  still  negligible 
for  the  present  purpose,  is  the  greater  care  he  bestowed 
in  later  years  on  interpretative  symbols,  and  sometimes 
the  revisions  consist  merely  in  such  things.  For  instance, 
the  1896  ed.  of  op.  28,  No.  5,  is  musically  absolutely 
the  same  as  in  the  original  edition,  except  that  a  few 
marcato-signs  have  been  added. 

Decidedly  important,  though  still  "visual,"  revisions 
are  those  of  the  interpretative  headings.  In  his  earlier 
days,  MacDowell  followed  the  international  custom  of 
using  the  Italian  Andante,  Largo,  Presto,  etc.  Gradually 
it  became  a  principle  with  him  to  supplant  them  by 
English  equivalents,  or  at  least  to  add  these  to  the 
Italian.  (As  a  curiosity,  I  may  mention  that  in  the 
"Sonata  Eroica"  he  gives  English  and  German  headings, 
but  not  Italian.)  Here  a  question  of  principle  was 
involved,  and,  as  we  all  know,  there  still  exists  con- 
siderable difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  two  systems.  MacDowell  became  quite 
radical  in  this  matter.  Thus,  in  the  1901  ed.  of  the 
"Goethe  Idyls,"  op.  28,  Allegretto  is  replaced  by  "Lightly, 
almost  jauntily,"  Andante  con  indolenza  by  "Slowly, 
swayingly,"  and,  instead  of  the  rather  restricted  number 
of  current  (and  I  may  add,  often  vaguely  and  indifferently 


MACDOWELL   VERSUS  MACDOWELL 95 

used)  Italian  indications,  we  get  in  MacDowell's  later 
years  a  profusion  of  such  clear-cut  English  substitutes 
as  "slightly  marked,"  "sadly,"  "placidly,"  "murmur- 
ingly,"  "very  faintly,"  "despondently,"  etc.  (op.  28, 
1901). 

And  now,  before  we  proceed — with  Mr.  Albert  Lock- 
wood's  kind  assistance — from  opus  to  opus,  so  far  as 
selected  for  the  present  purpose,  just  a  few  words  on 
a  matter  which  MacDowell  took  very  much  to  heart. 
It  is  the  matter  of  the  texts  which  he  so  often  selected 
as  mottoes  for  his  pieces.  In  the  marginal  notes  added 
to  my  list  of  his  works,  he  makes  this  characteristic 
remark  about  op.  31,  the  "Sechs  Gedichte  nach  Heine": 
"Translated  by  me.  The  only  really  authorized  ed.  is 
pub.  by  Schmidt" — "only  new  edition  is  valuable." 
He  means  the  edition  of  1901,  published  as  "Six  Poems 
after  Heine,"  and  he  adds,  in  my  manuscript:  "The 
English  transl.  are  hideous."  Quite  so,  as  you  will 
agree  if  you  compare  Heine's  original  with  the  translation 
which  the  publisher,  Hainauer,  used  for  a  "new  edition" 
of  op.  31  in  1898,  the  newness  of  which  consisted  merely 
in  the  addition  of  the  "hideous"  English  translation. 
One  of  the  original  German  poems  reads: 

Fern  an  schottischer  Felsenkiiste, 
Wo  das  graue  Schlosslein  hinausragt 
Ueber  die  brandende  See, 
Dort,  am  hochgewolbten  Fenster, 
Steht  eine  schone,  kranke  Frau, 
Zart  durchsichtig  und  marmorblau, 
Und  sie  spielt  die  Harfe  und  singt, 
Und  der  Wind  durchwiihlt  ihre  langen  Locken, 
Und  tragt  ihr  dunkles  Lied 
Ueber  das  weite,  stiirmende  Meer. 

Here  is  the  translation  which  Hainauer  "with  per- 
mission of  the  publishers,  Messrs.  G.  Bell  &  Sons, 
London,"  added,  and  which  aroused  MacDowell's  ire: 

Far  away,  on  the  rock-coast  of  Scotland, 
Where  the  old  grey  castle  projecteth 
Over  the  wild  raging  sea, 
There  at  the  lofty  and  archy  window 


96 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Standeth  a  woman,  beauteous,  but  ill, 

Softly  transparent  and  marble-pale, 

And  she's  playing  her  harp  and  she's  singing, 

And  the  wind  through  her  long  locks  forceth  its  way, 

And  beareth  her  gloomy  song 

Over  the  white  and  tempest-toss'd  sea. 

And  here  is  MacDowell's  own  translation  in  the  really 
new  edition  of  1901,  from  which  the  German  poems 
have  been  dropped  entirely,  and  to  which  characteristic 
English  titles  were  added.  This  piece  in  particular,  a 
flash  of  genius,  is  familiar  to  all  of  us  under  its  title: 

SCOTCH  POEM 

Far  on  Scotland's  craggy  shore 
An  old  gray  castle  stands, 
Braving  the  fierce  North  Sea; 
And  from  a  rugged  casement 
There  peers  a  lovely  face, 
A  woman's,  white  with  woe. 
She  sweeps  the  harp-strings  sadly, 
And  sings  a  mournful  strain; 
The  wind  plays  through  her  tresses, 
And  carries  the  song  amain. 

I  have  selected  the  "Scotch  Poem"  as  a  fair  example 
of  MacDowell's  translations.  Literal  they  surely  are 
not,  and  sometimes  they  seem  to  take  on  a  different 
flavor  from  the  originals,  but  at  least  they  are  not 
"hideous."  They  read  like  real  poems,  not  like  the 
rhymed  exercises  of  foreign  school-boys  in  the  English 
language.  And  what  is  true  of  op.  31  applies  also  to 
op.  28,  which  was  treated  similarly  in  1901  under  the 
title  of  "Six  Idyls  after  Goethe." 

The  fact  is  significant  that  MacDowell  concentrated 
his  labors  of  revision  chiefly  on  the  poetic  mottoes  of 
op.  28.  With  the  music  itself,  as  first  published  in 
1887,  he  must  have  felt  fairly  satisfied  even  as  late  as 
1901,  since  the  changes  are  few  and  far  between.  No. 
2,  for  instance,  he  did  not  alter  at  all.  The  music  of 
No.  5  he  left  untouched  as  it  had  appeared  in  the 
P.  L.  Jung  edition  of  1896;  No.  4  remained  as  in  Jung's 
edition  of  1894;  and  No.  5  was  retouched  in  1896  only 


MACDOWELL    VERSUS  MACDOWELL 97 

to  the  extent  of  a  few  marcato-signs.  In  No.  1,  too, 
the  revisions  are  negligible,  and  in  No.  6  he  merely 
added  an  organ-point,  doubled  the  bass  in  one  place, 
spread  a  chord  differently  in  another,  but  otherwise 
left  the  piece  as  it  stood  originally.  No.  3,  now  known 
as  "To  the  Moonlight,"  though  in  the  edition  of  1901 
only  slightly  different  from  the  edition  of  1887,  never- 
theless illustrates  the  two  chief  points  of  interest  in 
MacDowell's  revisions  beyond  matters  of  orthography, 
etc.,  already  discussed.  The  two  points  here  are  that 
(1)  he  rarely  changes  his  melodies,  (2)  he  changes  them, 
if  at  all,  generally  for  the  purpose  of  a  more  typically 
MacDowellian  harmonic  zest  and  lucidity. 

[Illustrations  at  the  piano  by  Mr.  Albert  Lockwood,  of  the  Univer- 
sity School  of  Music,  Ann  Arbor.] 

Just  as  remarkably  different  are  the  last  thirteen  or 
fourteen  bars  of  the  "Re very,"  op.  19,  No.  3,  in  the 
original  version  of  1884,  from  the  version  of  1894, 
though  the  thematic  material  remained  the  same,  as 
comparison  proves. 

There  is  one  matter  to  which  MacDowell  paid  more 
attention  in  his  later  than  in  his  earlier  years.  It  is  an 
interestingly  fluent  motion  of  the  middle  voices.  As  a 
neat  little  illustration  for  this  one  may  contrast  the 
last  four  bars  of  op.  31,  No.  3,  now  known  as  "From 
Long  Ago,"  in  the  1887  edition  with  the  same  bars  in 
the  1901  edition.  Beyond  such  slight  yet  significant 
improvements,  the  "Six  Poems  after  Heine,"  as  op.  31 
is  now  known,  remained  practically  untouched  except 
the  middle  section  of  No.  4,  which  in  1901  was  thoroughly 
overhauled  under  the  title  "The  Post- Wagon." 

Comparison  so  far,  it  will  be  agreed,  proves  that 
MacDowell's  mania  for  revision  produced,  as  a  rule, 
improvement.  I  say,  as  a  rule,  because  there  are  a 
few,  though  exceedingly  few,  exceptions.  At  any  rate, 
I  believe  that  MacDowell  did  not  show  a  lucky  hand 


98 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

in  the  only  noteworthy  change  in  the  "Vier  kleine 
Poesien,"  op.  32.  It  occurs  in  the  "Eagle."  Every  one 
remembers  the  lines  in  the  motto: 

The  wrinkled  sea  beneath  him  crawls; 
He  watches  from  his  mountain  walls, 
And  like  a  thunderbolt  he  falls. 

How  realistically,  yet  beautifully,  MacDowell's  music 
illustrates  these  lines!  But  contrast  the  first  edition  of 
1894  with  the  corresponding  bars  in  the  revised  edition 
of  1906,  and  it  is  quite  obvious,  at  least  to  me,  that 
the  "thunderbolt"  has  become  much  tamer. 

Haydn  is  supposed  to  have  suggested  "wenn  Einem 
nichts  einfallt,  macht  man  eine  Pause,"  or  words  to 
that  effect,  and  we  all  know  from  personal  experience 
how  wonderfully  our  professors  improved  our  early 
efforts  in  composition  by  killing  notes  wholesale  and 
letting,  as  it  were,  light  and  air  into  our  stuffy  juvenile 
masterpieces.  MacDowell,  too,  when  revising  his  early 
works,  repeatedly  heeded  Haydn's  witty  and  wise 
counsel.  Take,  for  instance,  the  "quasi  trillo"  bars  in 
the  Presto  (p.  13)  of  the  First  Modern  Suite,  as  originally 
published;  they  sound  rather  clumsy  and  poverty- 
stricken.  But  notice  the  remarkable  improvement  in 
the  1906  edition,  brought  about  in  the  simplest  manner 
possible  by  a  few  rests  and  the  tip-toeing  bass. 

To  enumerate  all  the  revisions  of  detail  in  the  later 
editions  of  MacDowell's  works  would  be  tiresome.  One 
would  have  to  speak  of  the  more  massive  opening  of 
the  First  Concerto,  of  the  condensation  from  twelve 
to  eight  bars  in  the  1895  edition  of  the  fugue  in  op.  11, 
of  how  the  at  first  optional  octaves  have  now  become 
obligatory,  and  of  many  other  such  alterations  that 
attract  the  attention  of  him  who  happens  to  have  the 
different  editions  handy  for  comparison.  However, 
enough  of  these  minor  examples  have  been  adduced, 
I  believe,  to  show  that  the  work  of  revision  was  one  of 
love  and  labor  combined,  and  that  MacDowell  had  at 


MACDOWELL   VERSUS  MACDOWELL 99 

least  this  in  common  with  genius,  that  he  took  infinite 
pains. 

Before  proceeding  to  those  revisions  which  one  might 
almost  call  recompositions,  just  a  few  words  on  the 
humorous  side  of  the  subject.  It  is  known  how  Mac- 
Dowell  came  to  hate  his  "Witches'  Dance,"  to  hate  it 
for  a  popularity  so  out  of  proportion  to  the  merits  of 
the  piece.  Well,  MacDowell  either  hated  the  very  sight 
of  the  piece  or  he  considered  it  lost  beyond  redemption. 
At  any  rate,  except  for  the  interpolation  of  a  full-rest 
bar  with  hold  before  the  staccatiss.  leggier o  passage,  he 
handed  it  back  to  a  loving  public  with  practically  no 
improvements  whatsoever.  And,  let  me  illustrate  just 
what  a  funnily  subtle  thing  the  copyright  law  is  by 
the  "Schattentanz"  from  the  "Twelve  Etudes,"  op.  39, 
published  in  1890.  The  piece  was  detached  in  1892 
with  four  other  etudes  as  "Fiinf  Stiicke"  with  next  to 
no  changes,  and  no  claim  of  revision  was  made  until 
1898,  when  Schmidt  published  it  in  an  "augmented 
edition."  I  assure  you  that,  except  for  the  addition  of 
two  bars  at  the  beginning  (where  everybody  must  see 
them),  the  "augmented"  edition  is  absolutely  identical 
with  the  original  edition. 

Passing  on  to  those  pieces  in  which  revision  went 
far  beyond  the  readjustment  of  details  and  assumed 
the  character  of  recomposition,  I  select  the  first  "Sere- 
nata,"  op.  16,  published  in  1883.  The  very  fact  that 
in  the  revised  edition  of  1895  the  piece  fills  only  five 
(instead  of  seven)  pages  shows  that  some  radical  surgical 
operation  must  have  taken  place.  The  "Andante  con 
moto"  has  remained  the  same,  but  then,  after  eight 
bars  of  the  "Un  poco  animato."  the  two  versions  remain 
totally  different  until  the  end.  The  "Barcarolle,"  op. 
18,  No.  1,  originally  published  in  1884,  shows  a  similar 
process  of  condensation  in  the  1894  edition,  the  Tempo 
1°  section  (with  a  varied  repetition  of  part  A)  having 
been  reduced  from  forty-six  bars  to  twenty-six.     But 


100 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

not  alone  this;  MacDowell  unhesitatingly  dropped  the 
virtuoso  bars  at  the  top  of  p.  5.  This  is  typical  of  a 
fact  well  worth  studying  by  his  biographers,  who  so 
far  have  not  paid  much  attention  to  such  evolutional 
matters.  The  fact  is,  that  MacDowell  learned  the 
difficult  art  of  subduing  the  virtuoso  in  the  composer. 
In  his  later  years  he  blue-penciled  with  unerring  judg- 
ment brilliant  virtuoso  passages  that,  as  in  this  Serenata, 
were  utterly  out  of  place.  Most  pianist-composers,  I 
fancy,  would  have  revised  the  piece  by  making  it  still 
more  acrobatic.  The  "Revery,"  op.  19,  no.  3,  was 
mentioned  as  a  good  example  of  how  MacDowell  would 
revise  a  piece  without,  if  at  all  possible,  affecting  its 
thematic  curve.  The  "Dance  of  the  Dryads"  in  the 
same  opus  is  a  more  extended  and  even  more  instructive 
example  of  this  kind  of  revision.  In  the  edition  of 
1894  he  did  not  deviate  from  the  thematic  material  of 
1884,  or  rather  he  recurred  to  it  every  few  bars;  yet 
(as  under  the  circumstances  only  a  full  comparative 
quotation  can  prove)  it  has  become  an  altogether 
different  piece,  more  lucid  and  much  more  interestingly 
varied  in  the  arabesque. 

In  my  introduction  I  spoke  of  the  puzzles  in  the 
bibliographical  history  of  MacDowell's  First  Modern 
Suite,  op.  10.  Of  course,  musically,  no  puzzles  remain 
to  be  solved,  once  the  different  editions  are  spread 
before  us  for  comparison.  Unfortunately,  I  have  not 
been  able  to  procure  a  copy  of  the  real  first  edition  of 
1883, *  and  I  therefore  do  not  know  wherein  it  differs 
from  the  edition  published  circa  1896,  in  which  the 
"Neue  Ausgabe"  of  1891  of  the  "Praeludium,"  but  not 
of  the  "Intermezzo,"  was  included.  The  latter,  however, 
forms  part  of  the  revised  edition  of  1906  of  the  entire 
suite,  and  therefore  a  comparison  of  these  two  editions, 
at  least,   was  easy.     The   "Praeludium"   of   1906,   for 

1 1  am  now  in  a  position  to  state  that  it  does  not  differ  at  all,  and  that  there  is 
nothing  new  about  the  1891  issue  of  the  Praeludium  except  an  added  few  staccato 
marks,  and  the  like. 


MACDOWELL   VERSUS  MACDOWELL 101 

instance,  starts  out  "Largamente  con  energia — with 
energy  and  breadth,"  instead  of  "Ad  libitum — Lento," 
as  originally.  Seeing  how  the  initial  octaves  are  doubled 
and  the  brilliant  "accelerando"  passage  is  rearranged, 
one  begins  to  anticipate  a  rather  complete  revision,  but 
after  the  introduction  the  piece  settles  down  again 
without  any  substantial  changes,  except  that  (on  p.  6) 
several  bars  are  moved  an  octave  lower.  In  the  "Presto" 
the  changes  have  become  more  numerous.  They  are 
sprinkled  throughout  the  piece,  smoothing  out  wrinkles 
and  picking  up  flaws,  and  one  of  the  most  characteristic 
revisions  has  already  been  quoted.  Similar  improvements 
have  been  chiseled  out  of  the  "Presto  con  bravura," 
now  headed  "Piu  allegro  e  risoluto."  While,  therefore, 
this  calls  for  no  further  comment,  much  less  the  pre- 
ceding "Fugue,"  which  has  remained  the  same,  a  very 
radical  departure  from  the  1896  edition  appears  in  the 
other  movements.  Thus  the  "Andantino"  and  "Alle- 
gretto," with  the  motto  "Per  arnica  silentiae  luna," 
while  practically  the  same  on  p.  16-17,  has  become, 
from  p.  18  to  the  end,  totally  different  (fully  twenty 
bars  shorter)  and  in  MacDowell's  best  vein. 

While  this  movement  is  an  instructive  example  of 
condensation,  the  "Intermezzo,"  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
example  of  expansion.  As  the  1896  edition  did  not  in- 
clude the  "Neue,  umgearbeitete  Ausgabe"  of  1891,  we, 
of  course,  have  in  the  1896  edition  the  piece  in  its 
original  form.  As  such  it  totaled  eighty-six  bars.  In 
the  "Neue,  umgearbeitete  Ausgabe"  of  1891,  subse- 
quently embodied  without  changes  in  the  1906  edition 
of  the  whole  suite,  it  has  grown  to  132  bars!  Clearly, 
these  two  versions  would  be  admitted  in  court  as 
strikingly  different,  even  without  oral  proof.  Finally, 
the  Rhapsodie,  too,  with  the  motto  "Lasciate  ogni 
speranza  voi  ch'  entrate,"  though  of  practically  the 
same  length  and  of  the  same  material  in  both  editions, 
was  so  thoroughly  overhauled  as  often  to  sound  like 


102 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

a  new  piece.  However,  as  the  illustration  of  this  fact 
would  require  a  complete  rendition  in  order  to  be  con- 
vincing, I  prefer  to  proceed  to  the  finale  of  this  study, 
namely,  the  classic  example  of  MacDowell's  art  of 
revising. 

I  mean  the  amazing  contrast  between  the  original 
edition  of  1888  of  the  "Marionettes,"  op.  38,  and  the 
revised  edition  of  1901 — published  by  Schmidt.  I  now 
quote  what  I  said  of  this  contrast  in  a  lecture-recital  on 
MacDowell  at  Washington  in  1905: 

Candidly,  MacDowell's  attempt  to  portray  a  clown,  a  witch, 
a  villain,  etc.,  in  the  "Marionetten"  was  a  failure.  One  point 
strongly  favors  this  opinion.  MacDowell  himself  seems  to  have 
felt  dissatisfied  with  the  Marionetten  as  originally  published  in 
1888.  Though  he  retouched  most  of  his  earlier  works  in  recent 
issues,  none  were  overhauled  to  such  an  extent  as  these  miniatures. 
These  finishing  touches  and  skillful  changes  show,  more  than 
anything  else,  the  extraordinary  progress  MacDowell  made  as  a 
composer.  Compare,  for  instance,  the  beautiful  filigree-work  of 
the  additional  "Prologue"  and  "Epilogue"  with  the  rather  hasty 
workmanship  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Marionettes.  Then  observe 
how  strikingly  the  short  run  in  the  "Villain,"  where  he  seems  to 
be  ready  to  seize  his  victim  and  then  of  a  sudden  sinks  back,  has 
improved  this  gentleman  of  doubtful  character.  The  "Clown," 
too,  in  his  new  garb  appeals  very  much  more  to  our  sense  of  humor, 
merely  on  account  of  a  few  subtle  rhythmic  and  harmonic  modi- 
fications. But  the  most  astonishing  changes  occur  in  "Sweetheart." 
Formerly  as  "Lady-Love"  almost  commonplace  and  decidedly  the 
weakest  of  the  Marionettes,  she  is  now  dressed  to  such  advantage 
as  to  be  easily  the  best.  In  fact,  as  "Sweetheart"  she  is  now  so 
full  of  tenderness  and  passion  as  to  present  one  of  MacDowell's 
most  artistic  genre-pictures.  And  how  was  this  incredible  improve- 
ment accomplished?  Without  practically  any  changes  in  the  melody, 
but  with  an  exquisite  polyphonic  filigree  of  which  only  a  past- 
master  of  the  art  of  harmonization  knows  the  secret. 

You  see,  I  put  a  construction  on  the  motive  underlying 
the  revision  of  the  "Marionettes,"  totally  different  from 
that  suggested  by  Mr.  Edward  Burlingame  Hill  in  an 
analytical  article,  "MacDowell's  Marionettes,"  in  the 
Musician,  1910.  I  do  not  underestimate  the  value  of 
his  careful  analysis  in  the  least — Mr.  Hill  can  always 
be  depended  on  to  write  with  knowledge  of  his  subject, 
and  interestingly — but  I  do  believe  that  he  was  sorely 
mistaken  in  attributing  the  revision  of  the  "Marionettes" 


MACDOWELL   VERSUS  MACDOWELL 103 

largely  to  a  desire  to  facilitate  and  simplify  the  pieces 
for  the  ultimate  consumer.  I  believe  that  MacDowell's 
motive  was  strictly  esthetic,  and  technical  only  from 
his  advanced  standpoint  as  composer.  As  the  proof 
of  the  pudding  lies  in  the  eating,  I  would  invite  oral 
comparison  of  "Lady-Love,"  vintage  of  1888,  with 
"Sweetheart,"  vintage  of  1901. 


A  NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 


A   NATIONAL   CONSERVATORY 

SOME   PROS   AND   CONS 

(Musical  America,  1909) 

Is  a  National  Conservatory  of  Music  in  our  country 
desirable  or  necessary?  The  question  may  be  traced 
back  for  more  than  sixty  years  through  newspapers 
and  magazines.  It  has  also  been  brought  to  the  at- 
tention of  Congress,  but  the  few  bills  proposed  have 
shared  the  fate  of  many  thousand  other  bills — that  is, 
they  have  been  pigeonholed.  Nor  is  there  any  likeli- 
hood that  a  new  bill  will  have  a  better  fate  in  the  near 
future. 

It  appears  to  be  generally  agreed  that  our  Federal 
Constitution  has  not  provided  for  such  an  institution. 
However,  once  Congress  in  its  wisdom  looks  upon  the 
idea  of  a  National  Conservatory  with  favor,  there  may 
be  found  in  our  Constitution,  so  others  believe,  a  para- 
graph elastic  enough  for  the  purpose  in  the  same  manner 
as  our  copyright  laws  include  things  that  a  strictly 
literal  construction  of  the  paragraph  on  copyright  in 
the  Constitution  would  exclude. 

Others  seem  to  think  that,  even  if  the  establishment 
of  a  National  Conservatory  should  be  unconstitutional, 
the  individual  States  might  be  allowed  by  their  respective 
constitutions  to  found  State  Conservatories  either  as 
departments  of  State  universities  or  independently.  The 
governing  principles  would,  of  course,  be  the  same  in 
both  cases.  But  I  am  not  concerned  here  with  State 
Conservatories. 

As  regards  constitutional  barriers,  the  problem  of  a 
National  Conservatory  may  be  deemed  purely  academic, 
yet  it  is  a  live  problem,  and  as  such  should  never  be 

107 


108 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

allowed  to  become  comatose.  The  question  merely  is, 
Why  is  a  National  Conservatory  desirable,  or  perhaps 
necessary,  for  the  healthy  development  of  our  musical 
life?  The  necessity  has  often  been  denied;  first,  because 
the  private  conservatories  and  the  musical  departments 
of  our  colleges  are  held  to  provide  sufficiently  and  effi- 
ciently for  our  national  needs;  second,  because  of  a  fear 
of  stagnation  of  methods  and  ideals  in  a  National — 
that  is  to  say,  Government — Conservatory. 

Neither  argument,  the  one  positive,  the  other  negative, 
is  wholly  logical.  The  danger  of  stagnation  is  imaginary. 
Because  such  criticism  has  been  directed  with  more  or 
less  ground  against  the  institutions  at  Paris  and  Berlin 
is  no  reason  why  such  a  danger  could  not  be  avoided 
here.  Indeed,  since  we  should  know  the  mistakes  made 
elsewhere,  we  could  profit  by  the  experience  of  others 
and  thus  easily  prevent  stagnation. 

But  is  such  a  danger  really  latent  in  national,  in 
government  institutions  more  than  in  private?  The 
truth  probably  is  that  errors  of  management  are  more 
perceptible  in  government  institutions,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  they  are  public  institutions,  subject  to 
public  scrutiny  and  depending  more  or  less  on  the  con- 
fidence of  the  taxpayer.  If  the  searchlight  of  public 
criticism,  maybe  even  for  political  reasons,  is  turned  on 
them,  the  weak  spots  in  the  management  appear  sooner 
or  later,  whereas  private  institutions  may  lead  a  shadowy 
and  shady  existence  sublimely  indifferent  to  public 
opinion.  With  them  good  and  progressive  management 
is  a  matter  of  business,  and  if  the  director  of  a  private 
conservatory  should  see  fit  to  mismanage  it,  nothing 
will  prevent  him  except  eventually  the  alarm  of  the 
trustees  or  stockholders,  if  such  there  be,  at  the  truth 
of  Lincoln's  famous  dictum. 

This  is,  of  course,  an  extreme  hypothetical  case,  but 
it  serves  its  purpose  of  showing  how  the  fact  that  a 
private  conservatory  is  fundamentally  a  business  under- 


A   NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 109 

taking  does  not  a  priori  guarantee  progressive  or  sensible 
management.  The  director  of  a  National  Conservatory, 
too,  must  obviously  be  a  man  of  business — that  is,  of 
executive  and  administrative  ability,  and  in  the  last 
analysis  it  is  always  the  personality,  properly  placed, 
that  counts.    Yet  there  is  this  difference: 

A  public  official  who  does  not  give,  or  is  supposed 
not  to  give,  satisfaction,  may  be  removed,  whereas  the 
director  of  a  private  conservatory  is  a  relatively  per- 
manent fixture.  Undisturbed  by  an  official  probe  and 
by  the  press,  he  may  advertise  his  institution  quite  out 
of  proportion  to  its  merits,  and  he  may  surround  him- 
self with  a  mediocre  faculty  whose  chief  virtue  is  colossal 
bluff.  His  institution,  as  long  as  he  can  fool  the  parents 
of  his  pupils,  may  remain  a  dispensary  of  poor  music 
and  still  poorer  methods  of  instruction. 

The  possibility  of  unceremonious  removal  of  an  in- 
efficient public  official,  whether  in  form  of  discharge  or 
of  forced  resignation,  is  a  strong  argument  in  favor  of 
a  government  conservatory,  and  the  recent  history  of 
the  Paris  Conservatory  proves  that  this  drastic  remedy 
is  adopted  if  sufficient  pressure  be  exercised.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  danger  is  that  an  efficient  public 
official  may  be  removed  for  purely  political  reasons  or 
before  he  has  had  time  to  prove  that  his  seemingly 
questionable  management  really  would  ultimately  bene- 
fit the  institution. 

Nobody  in  his  right  senses  denies  that  private  con- 
servatories may  and  have  efficiently  upheld  high  and 
progressive  standards  of  systematic  instruction,  and 
thereby  merited  not  only  the  gratitude  of  those  im- 
mediately concerned,  but  also  of  the  public  at  large. 
Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  some  have  done  so  not  only 
efficiently  but  sufficiently,  yet  they  are  of  necessity 
exceptions.  It  requires  more  than  a  clear  and  ambitious 
vision,  more  than  executive  ability  and  tenacious  energy 
of  high-minded  purpose,   to  build  up  a  great  conser- 


110 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

vatory  with  all  the  branches  of  musical  study ;  it  requires 
the  nervus  rerum,  namely,  capital. 

Though  artistic  in  its  aims,  the  best  and  most  fully 
equipped  private  institutions  must  of  necessity  be 
based  on  commercial  considerations.  The  greater  the 
financial  risk,  the  vaster  the  financial  problems  will  be, 
and  the  easier  the  temptation  to  sacrifice  the  science  of 
teaching  to  the  science  of  meeting  bills.  Especially  in 
our  country,  where  evil  influences  have  been  at  work 
to  undermine  the  distinction  between  music  as  a  pro- 
fession and  music  as  a  commercial  pursuit,  this  tempta- 
tion is  bound  to  lead  many  astray.  Unless  generously 
endowed  or  safely  beyond  the  experimental  stage,  the 
private  conservatory  will  be  an  institution  of  compro- 
mises, not  perhaps  because  the  director  or  the  faculty 
favor  compromises,  but  simply  because  "business" 
demands  them.  In  fact,  such  an  institution  is  only 
too  often  merely  an  organized  competitor  of  the  inde- 
pendent private  music-teacher. 

To  deny  the  right  of  existence  to  private  conserva- 
tories would  be  idiotic.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  is 
sometimes  claimed  that  a  government  institution  would 
unfairly  compete  with  private  enterprise — the  great 
bugbear  in  American  public  opinion — the  history  of 
musical  education  proves  the  fallacy  of  such  an  argument. 

Can  it  be  asserted  that  the  Schola  Cantorum  is  less 
flourishing,  because  a  National  Conservatory  exists  at 
Paris? 

Have  the  municipal  and  government  institutions  in 
Berlin  and  elsewhere  interfered  with  private  enterprise? 

The  answer  is  a  most  emphatic  denial.  An  institution 
like  the  New  England  Conservatory  would  suffer  very 
little  because  a  National  Conservatory  existed  at 
Washington. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  National  Conservatory  would 
add  strength  to  smaller  private  conservatories  because 
they  would,  as  they  have  done  everywhere,  take  their 


A   NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 111 

cue  from  the  government  institution,  would  be  forced 
to  keener  competition,  and  would  therefore  for  sound 
business  reasons  have  to  keep  their  standards  as  high 
as  their  finances  warranted.  The  public  would  gain 
by  this  competition,  and,  after  all,  public  usefulness  is 
the  keynote  and  crucial  test  of  every  educational 
institution.  It  may  fairly  be  asked  whether  part  of 
the  opposition  to  government  competition  is  not  a 
mere  cloak  for  brutally  selfish  interests. 

Any  attempt  to  demolish  such  opposition  by  argu- 
ments would  be  useless.  It  is  a  conflict  between  prin- 
ciples, and  the  stronger  principle  is  bound  to  win  in 
the  long  run.  Experience  proves  that  in  all  such  contests 
the  negative  interests  dominate  the  situation  at  first, 
because  the  supposed  danger  of  their  "business"  forces 
them  into  an  early  organized  resistance. 

To  organize  the  affirmative  interests  is  a  very  much 
more  difficult  task,  and  almost  impossible  in  this  matter, 
as  it  concerns  musical  folk,  by  nature  easy-going  and 
by  training  sublimely  indifferent  to  questions  of  public 
policy.  Yet  it  is  about  time  for  those  who  firmly 
believe  in  the  desirability  of  a  National  Conservatory 
to  reach  a  concerted  plan  of  action.  On  what  funda- 
mental principles  do  they  base  their  belief — not  negative 
principles  as  criticised  above,  but  positive  principles,  since 
such  alone  are  at  the  bottom  of  every  new  movement? 

They  take  it  for  granted  that  the  noblest  and  most 
important  duties  of  a  nation,  and  consequently  of  the 
government  representing  the  nation,  are  centered  in 
public  education.  They  further  take  it  for  granted  that 
art  ever  has  been  and  ever  will  be  a  powerful,  uplifting 
factor  of  civilization.  They  wish  to  see  our  own  civili- 
zation at  least  on  a  par  with  that  of  other  nations, 
particularly  that  phase  of  our  national  life  which 
emanates  from  our  musical  instincts.  Individual  effort 
alone  cannot  accomplish  this.  Concerted  action  is 
necessary,   and   government   is   but   another  word   for 


112 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

national  cooperation.  Logically,  they  claim  it  to  be 
the  duty  of  our  government  to  help  to  provide  the  proper 
opportunities  for  developing  and  perfecting  the  musical 
talent  that  slumbers  in  the  maturing  generation,  on 
which  in  every  respect  the  future  welfare  of  our  nation 
depends.  This  goal,  they  are  convinced,  can  be  reached 
only  with  the  assistance  of  a  generously  endowed 
National  Conservatory. 

Is  it  not  humiliating  for  the  American  musician,  they 
ask,  that  of  all  nations  the  United  States  alone  should 
have  failed  to  recognize  officially  in  the  art  of  music 
an  essential  factor  of  national  culture,  a  recognition 
that  everywhere  else  has  found  its  outward  public 
expression  in  national  conservatories,  not  to  mention 
government  subvention  of  a  National  Opera  and  the 
like?  Doctrines  of  State  socialism  and  paternalism! 
Exactly,  and  for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  the  negative 
private  interests  will  be  supported  by  the  average 
member  of  Congress  until  he  feels  convinced  that  the 
average  American  desires  to  be  represented  on  these 
"socialistic"  grounds  in  matters  of  national  art  and 
music. 

The  opponents  of  a  National  Conservatory  would 
probably  tell  Congress  this:  Such  doctrines  are  public- 
spirited  enough,  but  they  are  visionary,  impracticable 
and  lead  to  wanton  extravagance.  The  National  Con- 
servatory of  the  United  States  should  be  a  model 
institution.  This  implies  that  every  instrument  in  the 
modern  orchestra  should  be  taught  by  the  best  masters 
obtainable.  The  same  should  be  true  of  voice-culture 
classes,  classes  in  musical  history,  esthetics,  sight- 
singing,  liturgy,  choral  singing,  chamber  music  playing, 
orchestra  training,  harmony,  counterpoint,  composition, 
conducting,  concert  and  operatic  interpretation  and  the 
thousand  and  one  other  things  that  make  for  proficiency 
in  musical  art,  not  to  mention  general  culture,  languages, 
etc.    This  is  our  ideal,  too,  as  set  forth  in  our  catalogues 


A   NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 113 

and  circulars,  but  we  do  not  quite  live  up  to  our  adver- 
tisements, on  account  of  business  obstacles.  Such  an 
ideal  institution  would  call  for  a  very  large  faculty  of 
picked  men  and  women.  Since  in  private  life  such 
teachers  could  earn  a  comfortable  income,  since  our 
government  does  not  offset  the  disadvantage  of  small 
salaries  by  the  advantage  of  a  civil  service  pension, 
you  would  have  to  offer  substantial  salaries  to  attract 
the  masters  and  mistresses  in  their  particular  field  of 
activity.  This  would  involve  a  yearly  expenditure  of 
about  half  a  million  dollars  in  teachers'  salaries,  for 
the  clerical  and  administrative  force,  for  a  suitable 
conservatory  library  supplementing  the  collections  in 
the  Library  of  Congress,  not  to  mention  such  prosaic 
things  as  gas  and  coal  bills.     Nor  is  this  all. 

This  whole  pedagogic  machinery  would  have  to  be 
housed.  Since  no  power  on  earth  can  prevent  the 
American  people  through  their  chosen  representatives 
from  doing  things  on  a  magnificent  and  munificent 
scale  once  they  decide  to  do  them  at  all,  this  building 
would  be  not  only  serviceable,  but  monumental,  a 
stimulus  to  the  national  eye  from  without,  as  it  would 
be  intended  as  a  stimulus  to  the  national  ear  from 
within.  And  serviceable  such  a  building  could  be  only 
if  in  addition  to  the  many  classrooms  it  included  a 
small  hall  for  chamber  music,  etc.,  a  large  hall  for  or- 
chestral and  choral  concerts  and  a  fully  equipped 
modern  operatic  stage  and  auditorium. 

Though  probably  you  could  economize  by  relying  on 
the  ingenuity  of  the  architects  to  combine  satisfactorily 
the  large  concert  auditorium  and  the  operatic  stage, 
this  proposed  National  Conservatory  would  cost  the 
nation  about  three  million  dollars.  You  may  think 
that  the  tuition  fees  exacted  from  a  thousand  students  or 
more  will  yield  a  sufficient  income  to  pay  for  the  interest 
on  the  building,  for  its  maintenance,  the  teaching  faculty, 
etc.,  but  this  is  not  at  all  the  plan  of  our  friends  yonder. 


114 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Far  from  it;  they  want  the  nation  first  to  build  a 
National  Conservatory  and  then  to  administer  to  the 
needs  of  our  musical  youth  absolutely  free  of  charge. 
Do  you  feel  justified  in  carrying  your  sentimental  and 
patriotic  sympathy  with  music  in  America  so  far  as  to 
levy  an  initial  impost  of  several  million  dollars  and  an 
additional  yearly  tax  of  about  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars  on  the  American  taxpayer? 

If  these  arguments  did  not  permit  of  rebuttal,  undoubt- 
edly it  would  be  the  duty  of  our  Solons  to  vote  the  prop- 
si  tion  into  the  abyss  of  Congressional  pigeon-holes. 
Should,  on  the  other  hand,  the  champions  of  a  National 
Conservatory  succeed  in  proving  that,  even  at  such  ex- 
travagant figures,  the  cost  of  a  National  Conservatory 
would  not  be  out  of  proportion  to  the  profits  derived  from 
it  in  some  tangible  form  by  a  perceptible  percentage  of  the 
population,  the  proposition  would  have  some  chance  of 
serious  consideration.  Once  convinced  that  it  would  be 
a  sound  national  business  investment,  Congress  would  prob- 
ably concur  in  the  view  that  a  National  Conservatory 
should  not  be  subjected  in  its  management  to  those 
commercial  risks,  drawbacks  and  compromises  which  can- 
not be  avoided  by  private  institutions  based  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  to  buy  and  to  sell.  In  other  words,  Congress 
would  probably  not  see  fit  to  discriminate  between  this 
and  other  national  institutions  of  an  educational  type  by 
levying  in  addition  to  the  indirect  national  tax  a  direct 
tax  on  the  students  of  their  parents,  who  already  would 
be  contributing  their  share  to  the  indirect  tax. 

Possibly,  though  won  over  to  the  main  principle  of  a 
free  National  Conservatory,  Congress  might  at  first 
contend  that  the  institution  should  be  thrown  open  to 
whoever  cared  to  enter  it,  with  no  entrance  examination 
at  all  or  only  a  sham  examination;  but  they  probably 
would  soon  realize  the  folly  of  such  a  policy. 

Better  no  National  Conservatory  at  all  than  an 
official  incubator  of  a  musical  proletariat.     It  should  be 


A  NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 115 

the  gift  of  the  nation  to  the  musical,  not  to  the  unmusical, 
carrying  with  it  the  premise  of  musical  talent,  obli- 
gations of  strictest  discipline  and  serious  effort  to  be- 
come worthy  of  the  gift. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  National  Conservatory  should 
have  this  feature  in  common  with  all  other  conserva- 
tories, that  it  would  aim  not  so  much  to  discover, 
breed  and  perfect  geniuses  as  to  send  back  among  the 
people  an  army  of  well-trained  musicians  and  music- 
teachers  of  at  least  average  musical  gifts. 

If  they  included,  as  has  been  so  conspicuously  the 
case  at  Paris,  men  and  women  of  extraordinary  talent,  so 
much  the  better;  but  the  healthy  development  of  our 
national  musical  life  depends  not  so  much  upon  the 
brilliant  deeds  of  a  few  as  on  the  solid  missionary  work 
of  the  many. 

Since  the  American  people  cherish  an  ultra-demo- 
cratic respect  for  the  average  mortal,  since  they  are 
avowed  devotees  to  numerical  majority,  and  since  they 
are  not  yet  given  to  fostering  officially  unconventional 
genius,  the  standpoint  just  analyzed,  and  presumably 
no  other,  would  appeal  to  Congress  after  Congress  has 
commenced  to  look  with  favor  on  a  National  Conser- 
vatory as  a  national  business  proposition. 

But  would  a  National  Conservatory  be  a  profitable 
investment  of  national  funds?  To  wax  eloquent  over 
the  waste  of  public  funds  in  erecting  a  monumental 
building  for  this  purpose  is,  of  course,  absurd,  because 
the  funds  would  flow  back  into  the  pockets  of  the 
bricklayer,  the  mason,  the  architect,  the  manufacturer, 
the  marble  or  granite  companies,  and  so  forth.  There- 
fore the  question  really  is,  Would  the  specified  use  of 
the  building  be  profitable  for  the  nation? 

One  might  say  that  it  makes  little  difference  whether 
music-students  pay  for  their  instruction  indirectly 
through  the  Treasury  Department  as  trustee  of  national 
funds  or  directly  to  private  music-teachers.    The  fallacy 


116 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

of  this  argument  is  obvious,  because  the  burden,  be  it 
ever  so  infinitesimal,  would  really  be  thrown  on  many 
millions  of  tax-payers  instead  of  on  a  few  thousand 
whose  children  alone  would  derive  an  immediate  edu- 
cational profit. 

Not  much  sounder  is  the  argument  that,  while  access 
to  the  classes  of  the  conservatory  would  be  free  under 
adequate  rules  of  examination  and  other  restrictions, 
access  to  the  concerts  and  operatic  performances  would 
not,  and  that  these  entertainments  would  therefore  con- 
tribute to  the  maintenance  of  the  institution.  The 
trouble  with  this  argument  is,  that  the  American 
people  are  conspicuously  and  splendidly  opposed  to 
charging  admission  fees,  etc.,  to  any  of  their  national 
institutions.  Nor  would  this  source  of  income,  even  if 
based  on  optimistic  estimates,  be  considerable  enough 
to  influence  Congress  one  way  or  the  other  in  its  decisions. 

Quite  different  is  the  argument  that  a  National  Con- 
servatory would  gradually  help  to  stop  millions  of 
American  dollars  from  being  poured  into  the  coffers  of 
European  conservatories,  European  music-teachers,  Eu- 
ropean boarding-house  keepers,  European  merchants, 
European  this  and  that. 

Furthermore,  a  National  Conservatory  would  grad- 
ually help  to  undermine  the  fad,  so  far  as  it  is  a  fad,  of 
importing  European  "stars"  and  celebrities  who  then 
export  millions  of  American  dollars  to  Europe. 

The  business  of  playing  in  American  orchestras,  of 
conducting  American  orchestras,  of  impersonating  heroes 
and  heroines  on  the  American  operatic  stage,  etc.,  would 
gradually  become,  within  reasonable  limits  and  without 
chauvinism,  a  homespun  business  exactly  as  it  is  in 
every  European  country,  with  the  partial  exception  of 
England. 

If  the  champions  of  a  National  Conservatory  thus 
convince  Congress  that  music  in  America  largely  rests 
on  a  fundamentally  wrong  economic  basis,  that  a  National 


A  NATIONAL  CONSERVATORY 117 

Conservatory  will  help  to  rectify  this  basis,  and  there- 
fore that  it  will  be  a  profitable  investment  from  a 
broad  national  business  standpoint,  their  case  is  practi- 
cally won. 

We  shall  then  have  a  National  Conservatory,  and 
within  a  few  years  the  results  will  force  the  people  to 
wonder  why  its  establishment  was  so  long  delayed. 

Not  merely  this,  but  the  strength  of  arguments 
of  a  certain  type  would  soon  be  felt  which,  by  reason 
of  their  "sentimental"  character,  cannot  be  expected  to 
appeal  to  a  legislative  body  of  men  of  affairs  as  they  do 
to  us  musicians  and  music-lovers,  and  which  it  might 
be  a  tactical  blunder  to  press  into  service  too  soon. 

I  mean  this.  A  National  Conservatory  would  signify 
the  official  recognition  by  the  American  people  of  music 
as  an  essential  factor  of  national  culture. 

Dignity  would  be  added  to  the  musical  profession, 
the  cause  of  reputable  and  meritorious  private  com- 
petitors would  be  strengthened,  and  that  of  unsound 
institutions  would  be  weakened. 

A  still  more  important  result  for  the  musical  welfare 
of  our  country  would  be,  that  an  outlet  for  the  thousands 
of  talented  home-trained  instrumentalists  and  vocalists 
would  become  imperative. 

Good  symphony  orchestras  and  chamber  music  or- 
ganizations would  spring  up  everywhere  by  sheer  force 
of  economic  necessity.  For  obvious  reasons  their 
financial  problems  would  be  less  difficult  than  those  of 
the  now  comparatively  few  permanent  local  orchestras 
in  America.  While  they  would  naturally  interfere 
with  the  activity  of  the  traveling  orchestras,  they 
would  give  what  these,  with  all  due  respect  and  grati- 
tude for  their  splendid  pioneer  and  missionary  work, 
cannot  give  to  the  communities  on  their  circuit,  namely, 
a  healthy  musical  backbone. 

Furthermore,  the  frightfully  provincial  performances 
of  the  great  oratorios,  etc.,  with  a  screeching  organ,  or 


118  SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

"two"  pianos  or  a  fragmentary  orchestra,  would  grad- 
ually become  a  thing  of  the  past. 

I  also  firmly  believe,  for  the  economic  reasons  stated 
above,  that  the  establishment  of  a  National  Conser- 
vatory would  help  considerably  in  dotting  the  country 
with  permanent  homes  for  the  operatic  repertory  sung 
in  English  by  skilled  American  vocalists  for  an  adequate 
but  not  exorbitant  compensation.  Then,  and  not  until 
then,  will  our  country  have  what  we  lack,  in  spite  of 
contrary  opinion  that  does  not  look  beyond  the  horizon 
of  a  few  musical  centres,  namely,  a  musical  atmosphere. 

In  Europe  this  mysterious  yet  omnipresent  musical 
atmosphere  is  but  the  love,  desire  and  respect  for 
musical  art  permeating  in  proportionate  degrees  all 
strata  of  society  through  the  medium  of  local  choral 
societies,  local  orchestras,  local  chamber  music,  local 
opera. 

If  competition  between  a  National  Conservatory  and 
the  great  private  conservatories  will  help  to  generate 
and  to  spread  this  precious  musical  atmosphere,  by  all 
means  let  us  have  a  National  Conservatory. 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 


A   SURVEY   OF   MUSIC    IN   AMERICA 

(Read  before  the  "Schola  Cantorum"  at  New   York  City,  April  11, 
1913,  and  privately  printed  in  the  same  year.) 

An  American  fairly  conversant  with  the  musical  life 
of  Europe  will  find  it  by  far  easier  to  survey  acceptably 
music  in  Germany,  France,  Italy,  than  music  in  his 
own  country.  Indeed,  I  defy  anybody  to  survey  the 
musical  life  of  America  with  accuracy.  At  least,  in 
the  form  of  a  lecture.  Yet  here  I  am,  committed  to 
exactly  that  task.  The  only  way  out  of  my  predicament 
will  be  to  restrict  myself  to  the  cursory  discussion  of  a 
few  phases  of  our  musical  life. 

For  instance,  there  is  the  problem  of  municipal,  state 
or  federal  subvention  of  music.  Perhaps  not  as  yet  a 
really  acute  problem  in  our  country,  but  one  that  will 
call  for  solution  some  day  and  one  to  which  several 
lectures  might  profitably  be  devoted.  As  you  know, 
our  musical  life  is  based  practically  on  what  I  have 
elsewhere  called  "Privatbetrieb,"a  term  not  fully  covered 
by  the  translation  "(under)  private  management."  We 
belong  with  England  and  Italy  to  the  small  group  of 
countries  standing  apart  from  other  civilized  countries, 
where  the  musical  life  depends  on  a  cooperation  between 
private  enterprise  and  the  government's  paternalistic 
interest  and  support.  I  had  planned  to  convince  you, 
if  possible,  that  this  mixed  system  is  by  far  the  better 
of  the  two  and  of  necessity  will  produce  the  better 
results,  but  time  forbids  making  propaganda  here  for 
my  pet  theories. 

Not  so  many  years  ago  the  idea  of  governmental 
subvention  of  music  would  have  met  with  the  same 
shallow  argument  still  hurled  in  our  country  at  every 
progressive  economic  proposition  tinged  with  so-called 

121 


122 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

socialism,  namely,  that  it  is  un-American.  Well,  a 
thing  is  un-American  until  it  becomes  American.  I  am 
glad  to  see  the  idea  of  governmental  support  of  musical 
talent  and  interest  in  music — national  assets  just  as 
much  as  are  potash  deposits — spreading  its  roots 
throughout  our  country.  The  city  of  New  York,  for 
instance,  is  now  spending  considerable  sums  in  that 
direction,  and  it  would  be  a  regrettable  retrograde  step 
if  these  sums  were  decreased  instead  of  increased  in 
the  future.  The  time  will  yet  come  when  our  progressive 
municipalities  will  either  own  and  manage  their  own 
opera  houses  or  will  exempt  bona-fide  grand  opera 
houses  from  taxation  (as  has  been  proposed  in  Boston), 
or  in  some  other  form  will  subvention  opera  not  from 
mere  sentimentality,  but  from  the  standpoint  of  civic 
business.  And  if  more  and  more  of  our  state  univer- 
sities find  it  necessary  or  desirable  to  include  musical 
departments,  I  really  can  not  see  why  the  idea  of  a 
National  Conservatory  of  Music  should  meet  with 
opposition.  Of  course,  such  one-sided  and  half-baked 
schemes  as  have  been  outlined  recently  will  never  do, 
especially  no  scheme  which  proposes  to  build  up  a 
National  Conservatory  on  private  donations.  The 
raison  d'etre  of  a  National  Conservatory  is  the  official 
recognition  by  a  people  of  the  higher  professional 
training  in  music  as  a  national  asset,  with  all  the  edu- 
cational, artistic  and  economic  advantages  to  be  derived 
therefrom.  The  most  generously  endowed  private  in- 
stitution with  a  national  name  would  be  a  rather  poor 
substitute  for  the  real  thing.  If  such  substitutes  are 
offered  simply  because  of  fear  of  the  possibilities  of 
"graft"  in  a  governmental  institution,  then  the  promoters 
should  be  reminded,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  fact  that 
"graft"  is  not  quite  unknown  to  private  business;  on 
the  other,  of  the  fact  that  our  Federal  Government  is 
as  clean  as  that  of  any  other  nation.  Once  the  pressure 
behind  Congress  attains  such  an  impetus  as  to  put  a 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 123 

National  Conservatory  within  reach  of  our  people,  you 
may  rest  assured  that  it  will  be  made  an  institution 
worthy  of  the  name,  provided  the  musical  profession 
undermines  the  lobbying  proclivities  of  petty  schemers 
and  sees  to  it  that  Congress  entrusts  the  plans  to  a 
competent  commission  of  experts.  Such  experts  we 
have  in  plenty,  and  once  the  heads  of  our  great  private 
conservatories  appreciate  the  certainty  that  the  dig- 
nified competition  of  a  National  Conservatory  will 
strengthen  rather  than  weaken  them  in  the  pursuit  of 
their  educational  ideals,  our  Government  will  find 
them  ready  to  cooperate  in  removing  the  main  difficulty : 
to  put  a  National  Conservatory  speedily  on  the  same 
level  of  efficiency  with  these  great  private  institutions.1 
Time  forbids  me  to  go  into  details  concerning  these 
and  other  aspects  of  musical  education  in  America. 
For  obvious  reasons,  it  is  the  musical  education  of  the 
young  on  which  the  future  appreciation  and  cultivation 
of  music  in  America  depends.  Roughly  classifying  it, 
this  education  proceeds  from  four  main  sources:  Musical 
instruction  in  the  home,  in  the  public  schools,  in  the 
colleges,  and  in  professional  music  schools;  and  all  four 
depend  for  positive  results,  of  course,  on  the  efficiency 
of  the  teachers.  It  can  not  be  maintained  that  we 
have  passed  the  period  of  experimentation  entirely — 
perhaps  still  most  noticeable  in  our  public  school  music 
— but  on  the  whole  we  are  pushing  ahead  rapidly  and 
intelligently.  Leaving  fakers  and  parasites  out  of  the 
question,  of  whom  every  country  has  its  share — and 
our  country,  by  reason  of  its  peculiar  history,  more 
than  its  legitimate  share — I  believe  that  we  have  now 
reached  the  stage  when  our  music-teachers,  a  host  of 
them    with    a    thorough    European    training,    compare 

i  Those  interested  in  my  views  on  a  National  Conservatory,  I  may  add  here, 
will  find  them  in  an  article  of  mine  in  "Musical  America,"  September  4,  1909. 
It  is,  by  the  way,  the  only  article  ever  contributed  or  sold  by  me  to  "Musical 
America,"  and  does  not  occupy  itself  at  all  with  the  Music  Division  of  the  Library 
of  Congress,  regarding  which  I  never  contributed  or  sold  an  article  to  "Musical 
America"     (But  compare  "Musical  America,"  April  19  and  26,  1913.) 


124 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

quite  favorably  with  the  music- teachers  abroad.  Not 
only  this,  but  we  have  reached  the  stage  where  we  shall 
have  to  depend  primarily  on  our  own  crop  of  teachers, 
not  on  a  further  influx  of  foreigners;  though  this  does 
not  preclude  the  desirability  of  incorporating  into  our 
educational  system  preeminently  able  foreign  musicians. 
Indeed,  America  can  only  congratulate  herself  if  uncom- 
monly gifted  artists  and  educators  in  the  broad  sense — 
such  as  courtesy  forbids  me  to  mention  here  by  name 
— continue  to  settle  in  America  and  to  take  a  visible 
and  unprejudiced  part  in  shaping  our  musical  destiny. 
One  has  but  to  watch  the  growth,  for  instance,  of 
the  American  Guild  of  Organists,  with  its  high  ideals 
and  pretty  stiff  tests  of  efficiency,  or  to  study  the 
"Proceedings  of  the  Music  Teachers'  National  Asso- 
ciation," to  be  impressed  with  the  vigor,  the  knowledge, 
the  methodical  thoughtfulness  of  the  new  generation  of 
the  American  musician  and  educator,  who,  though 
professedly  in  music  as  a  business,  is  nevertheless  an 
idealist.  Not  a  dreamer,  but  a  man  who  has  visions  of 
his  peculiar  country's  peculiar  needs  and  strives  after 
these  ideals  with  good  old-fashioned  practical  common 
horse-sense.  Uplifting  forces  are  rumbling  below  the 
surface  which  the  uninitiated  barely  suspect,  and  the 
occasional  eruption  of  premature  fantastic  bubbles 
merely  demonstrates  that  the  weakness  of  these  power- 
ful educational  tendencies  is  an  excess  pi  individualism 
and  a  lack  of  coordinated  organization.  In  this  move- 
ment I  consider  myself  only  an  interested  bystander, 
just  as  I  should  not  presume  to  pass  judgment  on  the 
rather  confusing  status  of  music  in  our  colleges  and 
universities.  We  may  view  with  serene  patience  the 
controversy  of  professors  over  questions  of  adminis- 
tration, standardization,  credits,  and  what  not.  The 
main  point  is,  that  the  art  of  music  has  invaded  the 
American  college  and  will  not  be  driven  out  again. 
I  even  consider  the  mere  injection  of  music-schools  into 


A    SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 125 

the  academic  body  a  matter  of  secondary  importance. 
The  potential  possibilities  of  the  movement,  I  think, 
lie  less  in  the  direction  of  technique  than  of  culture. 
On  the  one  hand,  the  musician  trained  at  college  will, 
or  at  least  should,  get  a  college  education,  and  thus 
learn  some  things  quite  as  vital  to  an  artist  as  the  happy 
faculty  of  grammatically  harmonizing  "Yankee  Doodle." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  student-body  at  large  will  learn 
to  see  in  the  art  of  music  something  quite  as  respectable 
as  chemistry  or  law,  and  those  students  whose  musical 
instinct  and  interest  have  been  aroused  at  college  by  the 
opportunities  there  offered  to  hear  and  appreciate  the 
art  of  music,  will  carry  this  cultural  asset  with  them 
through  life.  In  proportion  as  the  number  of  college- 
bred  men  increases  in  America,  the  number  of  American 
men  who  do  not  consider  it  an  effeminate  pastime  and 
below  their  dignity  to  attend  concerts  will  increase. 
In  fact,  I  believe  that  the  future  of  musical  culture 
in  America  now  depends  more  on  the  intelligent  sup- 
port of  the  men  than  on  that  of  the  women.  What  we 
now  need  is  not  less  femininity  in  our  musical  life,  but 
more  masculinity.  The  American  woman  has  done  her 
share  and  more  than  her  share,  and  she  still  continues 
to  do  so.  Moreover,  she  can  point  to  one  achievement 
which  is  unique  in  every  way  in  the  annals  of  music. 
She  has  crystallized  her  interest  in  music  into  a  vast 
and  flourishing  organization:  I  mean  the  National 
Federation  of  Musical  Clubs.  Granted  that  now  and 
then  individual  clubs  move  erratically  along  the  border 
lines  of  amateurish  piffle,  yet,  on  the  whole,  the  ladies 
seem  to  know  pretty  well  what  is  best  for  them.  How- 
ever, one  thing  is  absolutely  certain :  Within  its  limited 
sphere  of  opportunities  the  National  Federation  of  Music 
Clubs  has  done  more  for  the  American  composer  and 
the  American  musician  than  any  other  agency. 

The  temptation  to  survey  church-music  in  America 
I    can    resist    with    ease.      Abstinence    from    churchly 


126 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

habits  unfits  me  for  intelligent  utterance  on  the  subject. 
That  there  is  room  for  reforms  is  clear,  otherwise  pens 
and  typewriters  would  not  be  kept  busy  demanding 
and  suggesting  reforms.  Whether  or  not  the  church  is 
still  often  looked  upon  by  many  church-goers  as  a  kind 
of  concert-hall  with  liturgy,  sermons,  prayers,  etc., 
thrown  in,  where  one  can  hear  music  excellently  per- 
formed and  practically  for  nothing,  I  am  not  prepared 
to  say.  If  that  still  be  the  case,  those  engaged  in  sub- 
ordinating the  charms  of  music  to  the  dignity  of  Divine 
Service  have  my  heartfelt  sympathy.  My  impression 
is  that  things  are  not  nearly  so  bad  as  they  used  to  be. 
The  pendulum  seems  to  be  swinging  from  mere  music 
in  churches  to  more  churchly  music.  With  this  im- 
pression uppermost  in  my  mind,  I  prefer  to  look  on 
such  a  program  as  I  happen  to  have  on  my  desk  at 
home  as  a  mere  freakish  curiosity.  The  program  is 
that  of  a  musical  evening  service  in  a  fashionable 
church,  and  one-half  of  it  consists  of  anthems  by  one 
Richard  Wagner — yes,  anthems  by  Richard  Wagner,  or 
rather  selections  from  his  operas  designated  as  anthems 
after  the  substitution  of  sacred  English  words  for  the 
original  secular  German.  Add  to  that  "processional 
marches"  arranged  for  the  organ  from  his  operas,  and 
you  will  know  my  reason  for  not  going  to  church  on 
that  occasion,  at  least. 

Why  is  it  practically  impossible  briefly,  yet  accurately, 
to  survey  music  in  America? 

By  America,  I  hasten  to  add,  I  do  not  mean  the 
Island  of  Manhattan,  nor  even  greater  New  York  with 
the  cities  of  Boston,  Philadelphia  and  Chicago  generously 
thrown  in,  but  the  three  million  square  miles  that 
stretch  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic  and  are  populated 
by  ninety-two  million  inhabitants;  a  mere  handful,  if 
contrasted,  for  instance,  with  Germany's  208,000  square 
miles  and  sixty-five  millions  inhabitants.  Now,  the 
cultivation  of  art  is  practically  a  city-bred  function  of 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 127_ 

the  human  mind.  Hence,  the  rural  population  is  and 
always  has  been  a  negligible  quantity,  in  Europe  as 
well  as  in  America.  This  statement  means  that  of  our 
ninety-two  million  inhabitants  forty-nine  rural  millions 
do  not  count  for  purposes  of  an  art-survey,  if  we  accept 
the  definition  by  the  Census  Bureau  of  a  rural  population 
as  of  people  residing  in  cities  of  less  than  2,500  in- 
habitants. But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  America  as  in 
Europe,  cities  of  even  10,000  inhabitants  may,  with 
very  few  exceptions,  safely  be  classed  as  musically 
rural  in  the  above  sense.  And  (at  least  in  a  compara- 
tively new  country  like  ours)  a  noteworthy  musical  life 
may  be  said  to  be  restricted  to  cities  of  25,000  inhabitants 
or  more.  Of  such  cities  we  had  in  1910  only  229  with  a 
total  population  of  28  millions.  If  we  take  it  for  granted, 
though  of  course  with  notable  exceptions,  that  the 
opportunities  for  a  well-regulated,  wholesome  musical 
life  increase  with  the  size  of  cities,  then  it  is  instructive 
to  bear  in  mind  that  this  country  of  92  million  inhabi- 
tants has  only  fifty  cities  with  100,000  or  more  inhabi- 
tants against  Germany's  47.  Furthermore,  the  majority 
of  these  fifty  cities  will  be  found  in  that  relatively  small 
section  of  the  United  States  north  of  the  Potomac  and 
Ohio  and  east  of  the  Mississippi,  with  not  less  than 
forty  per  cent,  of  our  total  population.  This  section 
comprises,  with  the  exception  of  Virginia,  the  Carolinas 
and  Louisiana,  all  States  whose  principal  cities  look 
back  to  prerevolutionary  times  for  the  beginning  of  a 
well-regulated  musical  life.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  in  the  newer  Middle- Western  States  and,  of  course, 
still  more  so  in  the  Far  Western  States  a  number  of 
musically  flourishing  cities  which,  fifty  or  even  less  than 
fifty  years  ago,  had  not  outstripped  the  rural  stage, 
while  some  Far  Eastern  cities  of  now  less  musical  im- 
portance were  enjoying  the  then  best  in  music.  Finally, 
attention  should  be  called  to  the  fact  that  the  total 
population  of  the  United  States,   in   1910  ninety-two 


128 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

millions,  in  1880  was  only  fifty  and  in  1850  only  twenty- 
three  millions. 

All  these  figures  have  simply  been  adduced  here  as 
statistical  food  for  the  thought  that  it  is  absurd  to 
compare  in  the  same  breath  the  musical  life  of  a  country 
like  Germany  with  that  of  the  United  States.  On  the 
whole  our  country  does  not  yet  and  can  not  yet  possess 
a  well-developed  musical  life.  Those  gentlemen  who 
assiduously  spread  the  rumor  that  we  Americans  move 
in  a  musical  atmosphere  just  as  do  the  Germans,  simply, 
with  patriotic  pens  dipped  in  Metropolitan  ink,  cross 
out  the  most  elementary  premises  of  musical  "Lander- 
kunde"  that  stand  as  barriers  between  fancy  and  fact. 
Moreover,  population  statistics  demonstrate  inexorably 
that  music  in  America  must  be  unbalanced  and  very 
unevenly  distributed,  as  indeed  it  is.  Therewith  we 
have  the  fundamental  difference  between  a  here  thickly 
and  there  very  thinly  settled  country  like  ours  and  an 
evenly  and  thickly  settled  country  like  Germany.  In 
Germany,  therefore,  a  fairly  even  distribution  of  musical 
interest  and  activity  would  be  the  logical  result,  even 
without  centuries  of  decentralization  of  culture  and 
other  significant  phases  of  her  cultural  history.  I  do 
not  believe  for  one  moment  that  the  desire  for  culture 
in  Germany  is  more  sincere  or  deeper  than  it  is  in  our 
country,  in  those  strata  of  society  that  really  count; 
but  no  amount  of  sophistry  can  remove  Germany's 
immense  advantage  that  she  is,  in  population  and  in 
musical  culture,  settled  to  her  fullest  capacity.  This 
insures  the  further  advantage  of  stability  of  musical 
contours;  so,  with  the  assistance  of  an  abundance  of 
reliable  literature  in  the  form  of  general  and  local 
musical  histories,  a  surveyor  of  modern  musical  Ger- 
many has  a  fairly  easy  task  of  triangulation. 

The  surveyor  of  music  in  America  faces  an  entirely 
different  problem.  If  the  contours  in  our  country,  by 
force  of  circumstances  as  yet  musically  unsettled,  were 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 129 

stationary,  the  very  fact  of  this  unsettled  condition 
might  simplify  his  task.  Unfortunately  for  him,  but 
fortunately  for  us,  this  is  not  the  case.  To  borrow  a 
happy  phrase  from  Prof.  Stanley  of  Ann  Arbor,  our 
country  musically,  as  in  so  many  other  respects,  is  "im 
Bau  begriffen,"  that  is,  in  course  of  construction.  Not 
even  here,  in  the  old  and  settled  East,  have  the  contours 
as  yet  become  fixed.  Taking  our  country  as  a  whole, 
they  are  constantly  and  visibly  changing.  Snapshots 
of  our  country's  musical  landscape,  therefore,  can 
possess  only  a  momentary  value.  A  fairly  accurate 
picture  taken  in  the  year  1913  is  bound  to  have  become 
inaccurate,  because  antiquated,  by  the  year  1923. 
Furthermore,  the  vastness  of  our  country  simply  forbids 
a  comprehensive  tour  of  inspection  and  research  by  any 
one  individual.  Of  necessity,  then,  the  surveyor  will 
have  to  fall  back  on  what  has  been  written  by  others  on 
music  in  America. 

I  have  touched  a  rather  sore  spot.  The  plain  truth  of 
the  matter  is,  that  the  literature  on  music  in  America  is 
woefully  inadequate  both  in  quantity  and  quality.  Most 
of  this  literature  was  written  and  continues  to  be  written 
with  the  connivance  of  editors  and  publishers  by  persons 
to  whom  the  term  "historian"  applies  only  by  courtesy. 
The  compilation  of  facts,  or  near-facts,  or  supposed  facts, 
in  an  entertaining  form  is  a  fascinating  pastime,  but 
the  mere  compilation  of  facts  is  not  history.  Register 
accurately  all  the  facts  of  a  city's  or  country's  musical 
activity,  be  it  even  in  strict  chronological  order,  and 
yet  you  have  not  history.  It  is  the  logical  and  dis- 
criminating interpretation  of  facts  from  the  evolutional 
bird's-eye  view  that  makes  for  history  and  the  happy 
faculty  to  lay  bare  the  influences  that,  so  to  speak, 
forced  the  musical  tree  to  take  on  its  own  characteristic 
shape  and  no  other. 

To  wax  eloquent  over  the  relatively  tremendous  ex- 
pansion of  our  musical  activities  during  the  last  fifty 


130 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

years  is  very  well  and  good,  but  such  retrospective 
reminiscences,  comparisons,  estimates,  etc.,  do  not 
necessarily  produce  even  sound  local  history,  unless 
informed  by  the  proper  historical  perspective.  This 
quality  they  too  often  lack,  with  the  result  that  the 
American  eagle  struts  about  in  these  pictures,  more  than 
life-size.  We  have  a  right  to  feel  proud  of  our  accom- 
plishments during  the  past  fifty  years,  but  it  would  not 
detract  in  the  least  from  the  full  measure  of  credit  due 
this  and  the  last  generation,  if  previous  generations 
received  more  generous  and  more  enlightened  credit 
for  their  pioneer  work,  since  it  is  historical  nonsense  to 
suppose  that  music  in  this  country  suddenly  sprouted 
from  the  soil  about  1860  like  mushrooms  after  a  rain. 
Until  the  gap  between  the  Colonial  period  and  the 
second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  been  bridged 
by  a  sound  bit  of  historical  reasoning,  we  shall  not  be 
in  a  position  to  understand  even  our  current  musical 
history  with  scientific  intelligence.  Moreover,  too  often 
the  fact  is  lost  sight  of  that  the  expansion  and  dissem- 
ination of  musical  activity  during  the  last  fifty  years 
— what  one  might  call  the  consumption  of  music,  with 
a  proportionate  increase  in  the  sums  spent  on  music — 
has  been  a  world-movement,  and  not  at  all  restricted 
to  America. 

Supposing  for  a  moment  that  the  existing  literature 
were  methodologically  above  criticism,  does  it  enable 
anybody  to  survey  music  in  America  with  a  fair  degree 
of  accuracy?  By  no  means,  since  it  is  so  poverty- 
stricken  in  quantity  as  to  be  a  disgrace  to  a  nation  of 
ninety-two  million  inhabitants.  There  is  not  a  city 
in  this  country  that  can  point  to  a  comprehensive, 
authoritative,  scientific  history  of  its  musical  life. 
Valuable,  even  splendid  books  on  certain  phases  exist — 
yes,  and  New  Yorkers  should  feel  under  obligations  to 
a  certain  much  abused  gentleman  for  just  such  books — 
but  comprehensive  histories  of  every  phase  of  a  city's 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 13£ 

musical  life  do  not  exist.  As  to  general  histories  of 
music  in  America,  they  plainly  suffer  from  a  dearth  of 
local  or  otherwise  specialized  literature.  A  statement 
which  finds  its  corroboration  in  even  the  best  of  existing 
histories  of  music  in  America,  since  the  book  hails  from 
Boston  in  New  England  to  such  an  extent  that  even 
New  York  and  Philadelphia,  not  to  mention  Chicago, 
seem  to  disappear  in  the  fog. 

That  mythical  region  which  we  Easterners  call  the 
West  and  about  which  we  Easterners  in  politics  and 
sundry  other  respects  have  such  hazy  notions,  is  practi- 
cally terra  incognita,  so  far  as  the  historian  of  musical 
America  is  involved.  Yet  the  musical  winning  of  the 
West  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  the  most  interesting  phase 
of  recent  musical  history.  Indeed,  for  a  somewhat  blase 
historian,  it  is  the  only  really  interesting  phase.  That 
the  older,  more  settled  and  culturally  riper  East  should 
expand  musically,  is  a  mere  matter  of  evolutional  logic, 
not  at  all  surprising,  and  a  development  for  which  we 
Easterners  do  not  deserve  special  credit.  On  the  other 
hand,  that  so  many  western  cities,  barely  out  of  the 
backwoods  stage  of  civilization,  should  be  pushing 
forward  musically  with  such  rapidity  and  energy  that 
they  have  already  outstripped  many  eastern  cities  and 
have  completely  changed  the  map  of  musical  America 
in  a  few  years,  is  without  precedent  or  parallel  in  musical 
history.  Any  book  that  in  the  future  fails  to  do  justice 
to  the  irresistible  musical  expansion  of  the  West  and 
to  emphasize  the  fact  that  this  expansion  is  really  the 
only  characteristically  American  contribution  to  the 
world's  musical  life  at  large,  should  be  condemned  un- 
mercifully by  the  critics.  However,  the  powers  of 
original  research  in  any  one  human  being  are  necessarily 
limited,  and  since  a  general  historian  must  lean  heavily 
on  specialists,  the  West  will  have  to  produce  its  own 
chroniclers  before  it  can  expect  intelligent  consideration 
at  the  hands  of  Eastern  historians.    And,  taking  a  still 


132 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

broader  view  of  this  whole  matter  of  American  musical 
history,  we  can  not  do  ourselves  justice  or  expect  justice 
at  the  hands  of  foreigners  until  we  have  produced  a 
methodologically  correct  and  abundant  literature  of  city 
and  state  musical  histories,  on  a  critical  digest  of  which 
the  general  historian  may  safely  base  his  survey. 

From  the  discussion  of  books  to  the  discussion  of  our 
musical  news  magazines  from  whose  columns  the  his- 
torian, though  with  exceeding  caution,  will  have  to 
extract  much  of  his  wisdom,  is  a  short  and  logical  step.1 
However,  I  am  not  foolhardy  enough  to  semi-publicly 
record  in  detail  my  impressions  of  our  musical  news- 
magazines. Granted  and  gladly  granted  that  these 
magazines  have  on  their  staff  efficient  and  unbiased 
chroniclers  of  current  events,  contributors  of  well- 
stored  and  brilliant  minds  and  earnestly  striving  to 
help  the  cause  of  music  in  America;  further  granted 
that  the  editorial  matter  in  certain  of  these  magazines 
appears  to  be  untouched  by  sordid  commercial  con- 
siderations; yet,  in  appearance  and  substance,  all  these 
news-magazines  impress  me  in  the  main  as  being  ad- 
vertising organs  rather  than  magazines.  Quite  true, 
there  evidently  exists  an  economic  demand  for  this 
type  of  magazine  and  it  must  be  supplied,  but  I  am 
not  deeply  enough  engaged  in  the  business  of  music 
myself  as  teacher,  virtuoso,  publisher,  etc.,  to  relish  as 
a  mere  reader  the  cancerous  growth  of  the  advertising 
department  all  over  the  body  of  a  musical  news-magazine. 

This  self-advertising  pest  has  unfortunately  also  in- 
fected mainly  literary  and  educational  musical  maga- 
zines.     Practically  all   of   these  are  issued   by   music- 

i  Caution  will  become  imperative,  I  may  add  here,  if  the  historian  faces  therein 
so-called  statistics  that  are  not  limited  to  fields  covered  by  expert  specialists. 
The  historian's  scepticism  will  be  the  more  pronounced,  the  wider  the  scope, 
the  greater  the  pretensions  and  the  bigger  the  figures  of  amateur  statistics  are, 
and  the  farther  they  go  beyond  the  statistics  really  available  at  the  U.  S.  Bureau 
of  Education  or  at  the  U.  S.  Census  Bureau.  Amateur  statistics  in  the  form  of 
estimates  that  are  well  meaning,  even  correct  in  principle,  but  in  detail  largely 
impossible  of  scientific  verification,  are  too  apt  to  remind  professional  statisticians 
of  their  stock  bon  mot,  that  the  trouble  with  statistics  is  not  that  figures  lie,  but 
that  liars  figure 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 133 

publishers  and  dealers  as  vehicles  for  the  display  of 
their  particular  goods.  While  some  publishers  succeed 
in  doing  this  in  forms  subdued  and  not  at  all  offensive, 
others  parade  their  wares  and  the  purveyors  of  their 
wares  with  blatant  brass.  A  spirit  of  make-believe  too 
often  pervades  such  magazines — I  do  not  mean  pub- 
lishers' bulletins,  etc. — and  their  literary  matter  too 
often  serves  as  a  cloak  for  the  real  object  of  the  publi- 
cation. In  the  last  analysis  such  magazines  are  but  a 
more  attractive  modern  species  of  the  time-honored 
trade-catalogue.  Furthermore,  nearly  all  of  our  musical 
magazines — like  our  daily  newspapers — surfer  from  the 
raging  craze  for  circulation  via  bulk.  To  cater  to  the 
tastes  of  as  many  readers  as  possible,  presumably  pays 
from  the  business  standpoint,  but  with  such  tendencies 
no  editor  can  possibly  maintain  a  uniformly  high 
standard  of  contents.  Hence  you  will  observe,  even  in 
our  best-known  magazines,  those  addressed  to  the 
average  teacher  and  student,  an  indiscriminate  mixture 
of  amateurish  trash  with  wholesome,  thoughtful,  mas- 
terly articles  weH  worth  reading,  by  the  best  of  specialists 
in  any  given  field.  From  whatever  angle  one  may 
view  the  problem  of  musical  magazines  in  America,  it 
is  a  fact  that  so  far  every  attempt  to  produce  and  per- 
manently maintain  a  musical  magazine  of  the  highest 
literary  type,  such  as  flourish  in  Europe,  has  failed  in 
America.  Either  our  musicians  and  music-lovers  are 
not  ripe  for  such  magazines,  or  they  do  not  relish  them, 
which  perhaps  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 

Possibly  the  extraordinary  development  of  the  musical 
column  in  our  metropolitan  dailies  has  been  a  handicap 
to  our  musical  magazines,  for  the  reason  that  not  a  few 
of  our  best  critics  happen  to  be  also  our  best  musical 
litterateurs,  and  these  dailies  and  not  the  magazines 
usually  harvest  the  best  of  their  literary  efforts  in  the 
form  of  articles  that  are  likely  to  interest  and  instruct 
the  musical  reader  of  the  newspapers.     A  weakness  of 


134 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

the  musical  column  may  be,  that  it  is  practically  closed 
to  all  except  the  accredited  musical  critic  of  the  paper. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  dual  function  of  critic  and 
litterateur  indirectly  lends  weight  to  the  critic's  critical 
utterances,  since  the  readers  learn  to  see  in  such  a  man 
something  more  than  an  appraising  reporter  of  current 
events.  Right  here  I  wish  to  say  a  kind  word  for  the 
much  maligned  music  critic. 

Generally  speaking  it  is  true  that  musical  criticism  in 
America  is  still  in  a  deplorable  state  of  inefficiency, 
chiefly,  I  believe,  because  of  the  consequences  of  the 
world-wide  notion  that  the  art  of  music  is  a  matter  of 
the  heart  merely  and  not  of  the  brain,  and  that  there- 
fore any  fool  may  write  intelligently  about  music. 
This  notion  is  shared  by  the  majority  of  newspaper 
editors,  with  the  natural  result  that  the  majority  of 
our  musical  critics  are  indeed  fools,  as  their  grotesque 
terminological  antics  prove  every  day.  But  there  exists 
within  the  critical  fraternity  a  noticeable  minority  of 
men  who  do  not  deserve  such  a  slur  on  their  activity — 
men  endowed  by  nature  with  the  critical  talent,  a 
talent,  by  the  way,  quite  as  specific  as  the  talent  for 
composition,  and  one  which  many  a  composer  or  per- 
former does  not  possess — men,  moreover,  who  have 
acquired  that  ready  knowledge  of  the  ways  and  means 
of  music  which  again  the  critic  and  nobody  else  specif- 
ically needs;  men,  in  short,  who  have  the  moral  right 
to  act  as  musical  critics  and  who  do  so  in  a  manner 
to  challenge  comparison  with  the  very  best  critics  in 
Europe.  Such  critics  are  by  no  means  to  be  found  only 
on  the  staffs  of  New  York  papers,  or  newspapers  pub- 
lished in  our  largest  cities,  and  that  is  a  very  healthy 
sign  of  improved  conditions.  Neither  is  it  true  that 
such  papers  always  have  competent  critics,  nor  is  it 
true  that  musically  obscure  cities  are  without  competent 
critics.  I  suspect  that,  whenever  such  a  critic  is  found 
on  the  staff  of  a  daily  newspaper,  it  simply  means  the 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 135 

managing  editor's  infection  with  the  bacillus  of  musical 
culture.  In  fact,  I  believe  that  the  whole  perplexing 
problem  of  musical  criticism  in  our  country  will  solve 
itself  automatically,  once  the  average  newspaper  editor 
ceases  to  be  musically  uncultured,  ceases  to  pride  him- 
self on  his  ignorance  of  music,  and  begins  to  realize 
that  it  is  a  swindle  and  an  insult  to  intrust  the  con- 
siderable power  for  good  and  evil  of  the  music  critic 
to  persons  with  perhaps  no  other  qualification  than 
that  of  turning  out  "good  copy." 

Some  writers  claim  that  the  American  spirit  of  life 
differs  fundamentally  from  the  European  and  that  there- 
fore the  American  aspect  of  art,  and  of  music  in  par- 
ticular, must,  in  course  of  time,  become  fundamentally 
different  from  the  European.  I  confess  that  this  thought, 
especially  when,  as  often  happens,  couched  in  pseudo- 
philosophic  language,  lies  beyond  my  horizon.  Never- 
theless, I  respect  it,  because  back  of  it  moves  the  desire 
to  find  vital  distinctions  between  what  is  characteris- 
tically American  and  what  is  characteristically  European 
in  the  musical  life  of  our  time.  I,  too,  have  speculated 
along  these  lines,  but  my  prosaic  mind  has  not  yet 
found  that  the  message  and  mission  of  music  is  spiritually 
different  in  America  from  what  it  is  in  Europe.  Oppor- 
tunities differ,  of  course,  and  owing  to  the  difference  in 
conditions,  music  in  America  presents  characteristically 
different  forms  of  life  and  in  certain  respects  our  people 
even  assume  a  characteristically  different  psychological 
attitude;  but  I  maintain  that  music  as  a  commodity, 
music  as  a  factor  of  esthetic  culture,  music  as  a  power 
for  spiritual  uplift,  and  music  as  a  nuisance,  is  substan- 
tially the  same  here  as  abroad. 

To  illustrate,  out  in  California  the  yearly  "High 
Jinks"  of  the  Bohemian  Club  of  San  Francisco  have 
grown  into  artistic  manifestations  of  national  celebrity. 
I  dare  say  many  of  us  have  sighed  to  witness  these 
solemn  offerings  to  the  Muses  in  the  giant  red-wood 


136 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

forests  under  the  glorious  skies  of  California  when 
arts  and  crafts  and  nature  are  combined  into  a  "Ge- 
samtkunstwerk"  of  fantastic  originality.  But  this 
originality  is  one  of  form,  not  of  idea.  The  "High 
Jinks"  are,  after  all,  only  an  adaptation  of  the  "open- 
air  theatre"  idea  to  peculiar  local  conditions,  and  this 
idea  has  its  votaries  in  Europe  as  well  as  here.  Or 
again,  take  our  rapidly  increasing  pageants.  They 
represent  but  a  revival  of  a  never  quite  extinct  idea, 
and  our  pageants  differ  from  European  pageants 
merely  in  the  themes  suggested  by  our  own  history 
and  perhaps  in  external  treatment.  Again,  take  the 
now  famous  festivals  at  the  "Music  Shed"  in  Norfolk, 
Conn.,  founded,  inspired  and  practically  financed  by 
Mr.  Stoeckel  far  from  the  inevitable  commercial  atmo- 
sphere of  other  festivals.  Nothing  quite  like  these 
festivals  is  known  to  me  in  Europe,  but  the  very  fact 
that  they  have  been  dubbed  the  "Bayreuth  of  America" 
shows  that  the  fundamental  idea  is  considered  neither 
absolutely  new  nor  genuinely  American.  It  is  the  same 
with  the  splendid  "musical  settlement"  movement,  with 
the  equally  splendid  movement  to  organize  the  musical 
talent  in  factories  and  department  stores  for  purposes 
moral,  esthetic  and  economic.  It  is  the  same  with  any 
and  every  other  musical  movement  in  our  country;  and 
I  maintain  that  the  chauvinistic  effort  to  interpret 
such  tendencies  as  typically  and  independently  American 
manifestations  of  the  social  mind,  simply  because  of 
characteristically  American  details,  tends  to  discredit 
our  people  by  separating  them  artificially  from  the  rest 
of  the  world.  I,  for  one,  derive  much  more  satisfaction 
from  the  observation  that  nothing  foreign  is  quite 
foreign  to  us.  Not  a  field  of  musical  endeavor  in  which 
our  voice  does  not  to-day  command  recognition  abroad, 
and  it  matters  little,  if  this  recognition  is  accorded  us 
only  grudgingly  at  times.  One  cannot  expect  Europeans 
to  adjust  themselves  prestissimo  con  slancio  to  the  new 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 137 

order  of  things  which  consists  in  this,  that  musically 
America  has  become  an  exporting  country  and  is  no 
longer  exclusively  an  importing  country.  The  more 
evenly  balanced  this  exchange  of  values  becomes,  the 
sooner  deep-rooted  prejudices  against  us  will  disappear. 

One  of  these  European  prejudices  is  that  against  the 
American  composer.  If  our  European  critics  merely 
contented  themselves  with  stating  the  undeniable  fact 
that  we  have  not  yet  produced  masters  of  the  first 
rank,  we  should  have  no  ground  for  complaint;  but  it 
is  just  a  little  galling  to  be  told  ad  nauseam  that  "com- 
mercial" America  never  can  produce  great  creative 
musical  artists,  that  even  our  best  composers  are  but 
weak  dilutions  and  imitations  of  an  inferior  European 
article,  and  that  our  only  noteworthy  contribution  to 
music  has  been  "rag-time."  Such  shortsighted  non- 
sense is  not  dictated  by  a  spirit  of  fair  play,  but  by 
prejudice.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  have  composers  of 
real  merit  in  America,  and  more  gratifying  still,  we 
have  American  composers.  I  mean  composers  whose 
musical  idiom  is  permeated  with  a  recognizable  American 
aroma,  whose  works  carry  with  them  an  American  atmo- 
sphere because  they  reflect  in  some  definite  or  indefinite 
manner  the  character  and  the  temperament  of  the 
American  Nation. 

Some  people  deny  to  this  composite  nation  of  ours 
telling  national  characteristics,  but  this  is  another  pre- 
judice which  we  need  not  take  seriously.  No  matter 
how,  by  looks  or  accent  or  temperament,  we  Americans 
may  betray  our  different  ancestry,  yet  back  of  these 
distinguishing  features  we  possess  a  more  or  less  pro- 
nounced common  something  in  appearance,  in  speech, 
in  thought,  in  mental  attitude,  which  stamps  us  every- 
where as  Americans.  Whether  acquired  by  contact,  one 
might  almost  say  by  contagion,  or  inherited,  the  Ameri- 
can characteristics  can  not  but  make  themselves  felt 
in  the  utterance  of  the  American  musician  as  well  as 


138 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

of  any  other  type  of  American.  Nature  demands  that 
they  come  to  the  surface,  and  they  do.  I  am  deliberately 
refraining  from  mentioning  names  of  the  living  in  this 
lecture,  so  I  must  use  MacDowell's  rather  exceptional 
case  as  a  concrete  illustration.  Deduct  from  his  art 
everything  that  smacks  of  the  "Made  in  Germany," 
deduct  his  indebtedness  to  Grieg,  Raff,  and  others, 
deduct  even  his  own  powerful  individuality,  and  there 
remains,  especially  in  his  mature  works,  the  subtle, 
yet  unmistakable  atmosphere  of  the  New  World.  His 
music  could  never  have  been  composed  by  a  European 
master  of  equal  technique  and  genius.  Psychologically 
it  is  in  the  last  analysis  American  music.  It  is  of  us  and 
ours,  and  therewith  you  have  the  explanation,  why 
Europeans  do  not  share  with  us  that  impression  of 
MacDowell's  music  which  goes  deeper  than  the  mere 
appeal  of  beauty,  originality  and  mastery  of  technique. 
What  is  true  of  MacDowell,  is  also  true  of  lesser  Ameri- 
can composers  in  varying  degrees.  Indeed,  the  mode  of 
musical  speech  of  certain  of^  our  most  representative 
composers  of  the  "Made  in  Germany"  or  "Made  in 
France"  era  is  sounding  a  more  and  more  sympathetic 
American  undertone  the  more  distant  their  early  sur- 
roundings become. 

If  identical  art-economic  conditions  prevailed  here 
and  abroad,  this  theory  of  an  inevitable  Americanism 
in  music  would  be  too  obvious  for  discussion.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  however,  they  differ  in  one  very  impor- 
tant point.  Nothing  interferes  with  the  ripening  of  a 
European  composer  in  the  soil  in  which  his  nature 
roots.  A  German  composer,  as  a  rule,  is  trained  by 
Germans  in  a  German  atmosphere,  a  Frenchman  in 
France  by  Frenchmen.  Thus  such  national  charac- 
teristics as  add  zest  and  sap  to  every  artistic  utterance, 
permeate  his  music  unobtrusively  and  without  external 
hindrances.  It  is  German  music  made  in  Germany  by 
Germans;  not  necessarily  good  music  for  that  reason, 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 139 

of  course,  but  at  least  homogeneous.  Not  so  with  the 
American  composer.  Conditions  forced  him  to  seek 
his  musical  education  abroad  at  an  age  when  his  mind 
was  impressionable  as  wax.  He  would  be  influenced  not 
merely  by  the  powerful  personality  of  his  teacher — 
let  us  say,  for  instance,  by  a  Rheinberger — but  also  by 
Rheinberger  as  a  German,  and  his  innate  Americanism 
would  become  atrophied.  Hence,  the  music  by  American 
composers  now  in  their  prime  so  often  sounds  like 
German  music  made  in  Germany  by  Americans,  not 
necessarily  poor  music  for  that  reason,  of  course,  but 
somewhat  incongruous  and  heterogeneous  in  its  funda- 
mental racial  psychological  elements.  At  any  rate,  if 
nothing  else  can  be  said  against  the  music  of  an  American 
composer,  it  is  quite  customary  to  level  criticism  against 
his  German  or  French  accent.  He  is  condemned  as  an 
imitator,  without  fair  consideration  of  the  fact  that  he 
is  the  victim  of  circumstances. 

Unfortunately,  this  outpouring  into  Europe  of  our 
students  of  composition  continues  unabated,  though  no 
longer  necessary.  I  am  not  advocating  an  educational 
boycott  of  Europe — far  from  it;  but  I  do  believe  that 
the  American  student  of  music  and  especially  of  compo- 
sition should  now  be  sent  to  Europe,  not  at  the  beginning 
or  in  the  middle  of  his  training,  but  at  the  end,  when 
his  character  is  likely  to  have  passed  the  formative 
period  and  when  his  horizon  is  likely  to  be  widened,  rather 
than  narrowed,  by  a  sojourn  in  Europe  at  the  feet  of  one 
or  more  masters  of  different  nationality.  Once  the 
present  tendency  of  expatriation  of  adolescent  Americans 
with  all  its  unavoidable  consequences  stops,  once  the 
American  composer  has  practically  become  a  home-pro- 
duct, then  his  Americanism  will  inevitably  assert  itself. 
It  will  assert  itself,  moreover,  spontaneously  and  without 
recourse  to  artificial,  much  less  to  chauvinistic,  means. 

This  qualifying  remark  aims  at  the  fallacy  that  the 
national  backbone  of  a  composer  will  be  stiffened  by  a 


140 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

plentiful  injection  of  folk-song  virus  into  his  system. 
I  admit  that  the  folk-song  may  serve  as  a  powerful 
antidote  against  the  loss  of  national  identity  in  these 
days  of  internationalism,  but  I  do  not  admit  that  the 
free  administration  of  folk-song  tonic  will  save  composers 
who  have  already  lost  their  national  identity  or  never 
had  any,  and  still  less  that  folk-songs  as  substitutes  for 
a  composer's  own  thematic  thoughts  are  sufficiently 
nutritious  in  themselves  to  create  or  build  up  a  national 
musical  art.  Folk-songs  will  not  even  generate  con- 
vincing local  color  or  mental  associations  unless  the 
composer  hears  in  these  folk-songs,  as  it  were,  an  echo 
of  the  psychological  keynote  of  his  own  race.  If  the 
mere  masterly  use  of  folk-songs  could  turn  the  trick, 
then  Dvorak  would  have  given  us  a  genuine  New 
World  Symphony  instead  of  a  beautiful  outburst  of  Bo- 
hemian home-sickness  with  Afro-American  ingredients. 
And,  more  striking  still,  when  the  late  Coleridge-Taylor 
— half  African  Negro  as  you  know — edited  his  volume 
of  American  Negro  songs,  he  accomplished  a  very 
musicianly  piece  of  work,  but  as  the  musical  portrait 
of  the  American  Negro  it  is  to  me  a  weird  failure.  His 
harmonic,  rhythmic,  racial  treatment  of  the  songs  has 
about  as  much  to  do  with  the  American  Negro  as 
Beethoven's  treatment  of  Scotch  folk-songs  with  Scot- 
land, and  the  psychological  background  of  the  volume 
suggests  London  or  Leipzig  rather  than  the  regions  south 
of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  The  volume  contains 
many  enchanting  folk-songs  of  the  American  Negro,  but 
his  spirit  is  missing.  In  other  words,  an  Afro-English 
composer  attempted  to  do  what  only  an  Afro-American 
composer  could  do  convincingly. 

On  purpose  I  have  just  used  the  term  folk-songs  of  the 
American  Negro,  because  they  are  exactly  that  and  not 
American  folk-songs  of  a  pure  type.  To  my  way  of 
thinking,  the  real  and  pure  American  folk-songs  are 
folk-songs  which  the  component  white  elements  of  the 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 141 

American  people  brought  with  them  to  these  shores  and 

WHICH     HAVE     SURVIVED    THE     TRANSPLANTATION,     plus 

songs  of  folk-song  character  created  by  these  elements 
on  American  soil.  If  this  definition  logically  denies 
songs  of  folk-song  character  by  the  American  Negro 
to  be  our  only  or  even  main  source  of  folk-songs,  then, 
of  course,  I  am  absolutely  compelled  to  deny  that  the 
American  Indian  supplies  us  with  American  folk-songs1. 
I  deny  this  most  readily,  at  the  same  time  confessing 
that  his  music,  be  it  of  the  ritualistic  kind  or  not, 
interests  and  impresses  me  deeply.  The  folk-songs  of 
the  Indians  are  American  folk-songs  only  in  a  geographi- 
cal sense,  just  as  the  Indian  is  an  American  only  in  a 
geographical  sense.  It  would  be  stretching  the  maxim 
that  the  spoils  belong  to  the  victor  too  far,  if  a  mistaken 
idea  of  what  constitutes  American  folk-songs  should 
prompt  us  to  appropriate  the  Indian's  folk-songs  also, 
simply  because  they  are  indigenous  to  this  soil.  The 
argument,  that  other  victorious  nations  or  races  have 
included  the  folk-songs  of  the  conquered  in  their  loot, 
does  not  hold  good  in  our  case,  because  the  Indian's 
musical  system  is  ethnomusically  too  different  from 
our  inherited  European  system  for  any  such  process  of 
absorption.  And  if  the  Indian's  folk-songs  are  to  be 
absorbed  by  us  as  folk-songs,  then  the  champions  of 
this  doctrine  should  at  least  limit  themselves  to  the 
Indian's  folk-songs.  They  should  not  reach  out  for 
that  music  of  his  which  is  not  of  the  folk-song  type. 
They  should  not  overlook  the  fact  that  the  Indian 
shares  this  with  every  intellectually  advanced  "primi- 
tive" race,  that  his  artistic  instincts  have  led  him  beyond 
the  realm  of  folk-songs  into  the  realm  of — one  might 
almost  say — I'art  pour  I'art.  To  pronounce  Indian 
songs  that  are  folk-songs  and   Indian  songs  that  are 

iThis  sentence  originally  read:  "If  this  definition  logically  excludes  songs  of 
folk-song  character  by  the  American  Negro,  at  any  rate  as  our  only  or  even 
main  source,"  etc.  This  sentence  was  misleading.  The  above  represents  my 
views  more  accurately. 


142 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

not  folk-songs,  indiscriminately  as  American  folk-songs, 
is  really  pushing  the  anxiety  to  endow  our  people  with 
an  ample  fund  of  folk-songs  entirely  too  far. 

Nothing  in  musical  esthetics  prevents  our  composers 
from  utilizing  the  Indian's  music  to  their  heart's  content. 
Let  them  draw  from  this  source  of  inspiration  with  all 
the  skill  and  taste  at  their  command,  provided  the 
movement  does  not  become  a  fad;  but  they  must  not 
delude  themselves  or  us  into  the  belief  that  they  are 
operating  with  American  folk-songs,  or  that  they  are 
eo  ipso  weaving  American  music  out  of  Indian  melodies. 
American  their  music  will  be,  not  because  of  such 
Indian  or  Afro-American  ingredients,  but  in  spite  of 
them,  if  American  at  all. 

Whatever  may  be  the  proper  definition  of  American 
folk-songs,  this  much  is  clear — that  the  mere  use  of  folk- 
songs neither  lessens  nor  enhances  the  art-value  of  com- 
positions. An  obvious  truism;  but,  strange  to  say,  now 
and  then  some  hyper-Indianized  enthusiast  would  almost 
have  us  believe  that  the  Reds  are  outspurting  the  Whites 
in  the  race  for  immortality  because  the  latter  do  not 
abjure  their  so-called  European  themes  in  favor  of  the 
slogan  of  "idealization  of  folk-songs  indigenous  to  the 
American  soil."  A  felicitous  and  handy  phrase ;  but  if  the 
American  composer's  imagination  is  so  poverty-stricken 
that  his  salvation  depends  on  mortgaging  himself  to 
Zunis,  Apaches,  Chippewas,  etc.,  he  might  just  as  well 
stop  composing,  since,  as  I  said,  the  mere  use  of  folk-songs 
has  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  the  art-value  of  com- 
positions. Now,  I  do  not  for  a  moment  deny  that  some 
very  enjoyable  and  artistically  highly  successful  experi- 
ments have  left  the  laboratories  of  the  idealizers  of  Indian 
music — instead  of  spoiling  it  as  some  have  done — but  I 
also  contend  that  these  successful  experiments  constitute 
as  yet  only  a  relatively  insignificant  corner  in  that  Ameri- 
can musical  art  which  is  of  high  artistic  value.1 

i  Under  normal  conditions  a  French  composition  will  remain  essentially  French,, 
a  German  essentially  German,  an  American  essentially  American,  quite  irrespective 
of  the  geographic  or  ethnographic  source  of  the  thematic  material.    This  axiom 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 143 

With  all  due  respect  for  the  American  composer's 
critics  at  home  and  abroad,  I  really  can  not  help  think- 
ing that  he  has  done  remarkably  well  during  the  last 
forty  years  with  or  without  the  help  of  the  Indian. 
Indeed,  a  certain  type  of  American  composer  seems  to 
be  quite  the  vogue  in  Europe  just  now  wherever  and 
whenever  the  enjoyment  of  music  is  combined  with 
exercise  of  the  lower  extremities.  It  is  not  the  type  of 
American  composer — with  some  rather  notable  excep- 
tions— of  whom  we  feel  particularly  proud,  but  maybe 
this  type  will  help  to  pave  the  way  for  a  readier  recog- 
nition abroad  of  other  types  of  the  American  composer. 

At  home,  the  American  composer  has  certainly  come 
into  his  own  in  the  smaller  forms  of  music,  including 
music  for  the  studio,  the  school  and  the  church. 
The  publishers  meet  him  more  than  halfway  in  this 

appears  to  me  to  be  so  unassailable  that  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  some  of 
our  most  successful  American  idealizers  of  Indian  themes  seem  to  resent  the 
theory  that  they  can  not  help  writing  music  with  a  more  or  less  perceptible  Ameri- 
can psychological  background,  whether  their  themes  be  Indian,  Spanish,  Chinese, 
Swedish  or  what  not. 

Indian  themes  will  suggest  America  to  the  hearer,  if  he  knows  that  these  themes 
are  borrowed  from  the  North  American  Indian.  If  he  does  not  know  this,  he 
will  merely  gain  the  impression  of  something  exotic.  He  will  not  suspect  the  com- 
position to  be  of  American  origin,  unless  the  composer,  like  MacDowell  in  his 
wonderful  "Indian  Suite,"  has  breathed  a  distinctively  American  spirit  into  his 
work.  It  is  quite  conceivable  that  a  typical  Frenchman  may  utilize  Indian  themes 
with  skill  and  genius  equal  to  that  of  MacDowell.  Does  it  not  stand  to  reason 
that  nevertheless  the  psychological  background  of  his  composition  will  be  essen- 
tially French?  In  other  words,  it  is  not  the  use  (or  abuse)  of  Indian  themes  in 
itself,  which  makes  for  an  essentially  American  atmosphere,  but  the  element 
of  national  psychology  which  is  quite  beyond  the  control  of  the  composer. 

By  utilizing  themes  not  his  own  or  not  of  his  own  people  and  race,  a  composer 
will  move,  as  it  were,  between  two  more  or  less  conflicting  atmospheres.  His 
esthetic  problem  and  difficulty  will  be  to  blend  them  either  in  favor  of  the  one  or 
the  other.  If  he  succeeds,  he  will  have  created  an  unobjectionable  work  of  art. 
If  he  does  not  succeed,  the  result  will  be  a  hybrid,  a  mongrel  product.  The  weak- 
ness of  the  movement  here  under  discussion  lies  exactly  in  this  danger  of  an 
unnecessary  musical  miscegenation,  its  strength  in  a  fresh  source  of  inspiration 
which  may  be  exactly  the  one  needed  by  certain  men  of  talent  in  order  to  give 
us  their  best. 

I  have  added  these  remarks  to  my  lecture  so  as  to  make  it  perfectly  clear 
that  I  am  not  criticising  certain  talented  composers  because  they  utilize  Indian 
themes.  The  issue  is  one  of  principle ,  not  one  of  inclination,  talent,  skill  or  of 
success,  artistic  and  otherwise 

It  goes  without  saying,  I  trust,  that  I  am  not  opposing  the  study  or  the  students 
of  Indian  music  I  have  endeavored  to  facilitate  this  study  by  compiling  a  bib- 
liography of  books  and  articles  on  the  music  of  the  North  American  Indian  and 
therefore  may  claim  to  have  shown  an  active  and  positive  interest  in  his  music 
My  only  regret  is  that  the  music  of  the  American  Negro  has  not  been  studied 
with  the  same  intense  and  scientific  interest.  Yet  his  music  presents  problems 
quite  as  interesting,  complicated  and  suggestive  as  those  of  the  Indian  s  music. 
With  every  year  of  delay,  the  solution  of  these  problems  will  become  more  and 
more  difficult.  The  work  should  either  be  undertaken  by  our  Government  or 
otherwise,  before  it  becomes  too  late  to  discriminate  scientifically  between  what 
is  African,  European  and  American  in  the  Afro-American's  music. — Mr.  Krehbiel's 
thoughtful  book  on  "Afro-American  Folksongs"  (1914)  is  happily  a  step  in  the 
right  direction. 


144 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN   MUSIC 

direction.  He  has  ground  for  complaint  only  in  the 
field  of  chamber  music,  symphonic  music,  oratorio  and 
opera — opera  as  distinguished  from  so-called  "comic" 
opera.  This  complaint,  however,  he  would  not  be 
justified  in  addressing  exclusively  to  any  one  set  of 
men,  on  whose  contact  his  chances  for  deserved  or 
undeserved  recognition  depend,  principally  publishers, 
managers,  conductors,  performers.  They  are  just  as 
much  victims  of  the  peculiar  art-economic  conditions 
in  our  country  as  he  is,  and  any  propaganda  of  theirs 
for  him  must  reckon  with  the  unpardonable  indifference 
of  the  American  musical  public  to  the  prospects  of  the 
American  composer  in  larger  forms. 

This  or  that  publisher  may  take  and  does  take  a 
patriotic  pride  in  furthering,  for  instance,  orchestral 
music  by  American  composers  without  prospects  of 
tangible  profits,  but  no  sensible  person  can  expect  of 
him  to  tie  up  his  capital  by  the  reckless  publication  of 
expensive  orchestral  scores  without  some  consideration 
of  the  present  demand  by  our  orchestras  for  such  works, 
a  demand  based  on  the  lukewarm  demand  by  our 
audiences  for  hearing,  and  what  is  by  far  more  important, 
rehearing  of  American  symphonic  works. 

Now,  every  lover  of  orchestral  music,  who  is  fairly 
conversant  with  our  musical  life,  can  mention  offhand 
in  addition  to  the  several  New  York  orchestras  the 
Boston  Symphony  Orchestra,  the  Philadelphia  and  the 
Theodore  Thomas  Orchestras  of  Chicago,  the  orchestras 
in  Minneapolis,  St.  Paul,  St.  Louis,  New  Haven,  Cin- 
cinnati, Kansas  City,  San  Francisco,  Los  Angeles,  and 
one  or  two  more  American  orchestras  fully  equipped 
to  play  complicated  modern  scores,  but  then  the 
names  begin  to  flow  very  much  slower  from  our 
tongue.  We  realize  that  it  is  but  a  question  of  time 
until  every  self-respecting  city  of  wealth  and  culture 
in  America  will  have  its  own  well-equipped  orchestra, 
but  we  are  forced  to  admit  that  as  yet  such  orchestras 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 145 

are  rather  few  and  far  between  in  the  United  States. 
Consequently,  the  American  composer's  opportunities 
for  gaining  a  hearing  would  be  limited  even  without 
the  fact  that  he  has  to  make  headway  against  a 
repertoire  which  in  America  is  more  cosmopolitan 
than  in  other  countries. 

This  is  but  logical  in  a  country  like  ours,  and  though 
the  majority  of  our  imported  conductors  hail  from  Ger- 
many and  Austria  and  therefore  quite  naturally  show  a 
decided  tendency  to  give  the  German  label  of  approval 
and  taste  to  their  programs,  yet  they  can  not  let  their 
Teutonic  tendencies  run  so  amuck  as  to  superimpose  on 
the  American  public  exact  replicas  of  Berlin  or  Vienna. 
Furthermore,  our  conductors  see  themselves  obliged  to 
restrict  their  choice  of  novelties  to  such  works  as,  in 
their  individual  opinion,  stand  out  preeminently  for  this 
or  that  reason  from  the  hundreds  of  scores  published 
annually  abroad,  and  publication  in  itself  generally 
means  a  selection  of  the  supposedly  best.  Now  and 
then  our  conductors  may  show  a  lack  of  critical  dis- 
crimination in  their  selection  of  novelties,  or  a  taste  too 
one-sided  and  too  partisan,  but  on  the  whole  the  novelties 
performed  each  season  in  America  fairly  represent  the 
best  in  the  current  European  output.  Accordingly,  the 
American  composer,  beyond  the  limited  opportunities 
for  a  hearing  to  which  he  is  restricted  by  the  limited 
number  of  orchestras  capable  of  adequately  performing 
his  music,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  unlimited  repertoire, 
on  the  other,  must  face  a  competition,  not  of  the  average 
run  of  European  composers,  but  of  a  select  few.  This 
very  important  point  too  often  escapes  the  consideration 
of  his  critics.  If  they  were  forced  to  sit  through  a 
winter  of  novelties  at  Berlin,  or  even  one  of  the  annual 
festivals  of  the  "Allgemeiner  Deutscher  Musikverein," 
with  its  program  of  novelties  passed  on  favorably  in 
advance  by  a  jury,  then  their  respect  for  the  American 
composer  would  increase  substantially.     Speaking  for 


146 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

myself,  there  are  at  least  half  a  dozen  American  com- 
posers whose  new  works  I  would  much  rather  hear  than 
many  foreign  importations,  whose  main  function  is 
merely  to  keep  us  abreast  of  the  times. 

However,  personal  preferences  are  a  dangerous  battle- 
ground. The  question  resolves  itself  after  all  into  this: 
Does  the  American  composer  deserve  to  be  heard,  and 
does  he  receive  fair  play?  In  answer  to  this,  I  can  not 
rid  myself  of  the  impression  that  some  of  our  imported 
conductors — but  those  in  the  East  more  than  those  in 
the  West — neglect  the  American  composer  unnecessarily. 
If  it  be  one  of  the  most  obvious  duties  of  a  conductor  to 
lend  a  helping  hand  to  talent  struggling  for  recognition, 
and  this  with  reasonable  subjugation  of  his  personal 
tastes,  surely  this  duty  involves  also  impartial  willingness 
to  foster  the  talented  composer  of  the  country  which  has 
entrusted  an  important  part  of  its  musical  uplift  to  him 
in  preference  to  many  other  equally  capable  men,  and 
pays  him  more  than  handsomely.  Indeed,  such  an  im- 
ported conductor  would  be  entirely  justified  if  he,  in 
the  interest  of  our  country's  creative  musical  develop- 
ment, stretched  his  artistic  conscience  and  if  he  did  not 
apply  the  same  rigid  test  of  value  to  native  works  of  art 
as  he  does,  with  all  respect  for  his  own  by  no  means 
infallible  taste,  to  foreign  composers.  His  attitude 
towards  American  composers  impresses  me  sometimes 
as  being  rather  passive,  not  the  result  of  an  active 
missionary  effort  to  encourage  and  stimulate  American 
composers  and  therewith  to  do  here  for  us  the  same 
missionary  work  that  he  does  not  hesitate  to  do  for 
the  composers  of  his  own  country. 

Since  the  temptation  has  been  too  strong  to  use  the 
much-abused  term  of  mission,  I  might  just  as  well  add 
that  another  mission  of  the  conductor  in  our  country  is 
not  being  realized  by  him  as  it  might  be. 

The  system  prevails  here  to  provide  cities  without 
the  means  or  interest  for  a  good  local  orchestra  with 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 147 

symphony  concerts  given  by  visiting  crack  organiza- 
tions. In  this  manner,  such  cities  have  learned  to  enjoy 
the  best  music  in  more  or  less  frequent  doses  in  renditions 
far  superior  to  those  in  European  cities  of  average  musical 
culture  and  opportunities.  The  system  has  its  disadvan- 
tages, inasmuch  as  this  supply  of  the  best  from  without 
is  too  apt  to  spoil  the  taste  for  the  merely  good  supplied 
from  within.  In  other  words,  this  system  of  importation 
of  crack  orchestras  blunts  the  interest  in  local  enterprise 
and  stunts  rather  than  promotes  the  growth  of  a  city's 
active  musical  life  from  within,  without  which  in  the  last 
analysis  no  city  can  ever  attain  to  a  healthy  and  potential 
musical  life  of  its  own. 

We  shall  have  to  face  these  conditions  for  some  time  to 
come.  But  so  must  also  the  conductors  of  visiting  or- 
chestras. Under  the  circumstances,  it  seems  to  me  that 
their  mission  is  to  promote  the  musical  welfare  of  what 
one  might  call  their  colonies,  or  even  patients,  not  hap- 
hazard but  systematically.  This  requires  purposeful 
study  of  a  city's  needs,  of  a  city's  actual  acquaintance 
with  symphonic  literature.  It  would  be  such  a  simple 
matter  to  find  out  with  which  composers  the  concert-goers 
of  a  particular  city  in  the  musical  provinces  of  America 
are  on  speaking  terms,  and  with  which  not,  and  then  to 
widen  their  musical  horizon  by  a  judicious  selection  of 
known  and  unknown  works,  instead  of  treating  them,  as 
is  the  rule,  to  three,  four,  five  or  even  more  routine  "cir- 
cuit" programs  of  the  mixed  classic-romantic  battle-horse 
type.  To  what  absurd  results  this  leads  may  be  illustrated 
by  a  recent  experience  of  us  Washingtonians  who  have 
not  yet  heard  a  work  of  Delius,  Bruckner,  Scriabine, 
Sgambati,  Pfitzner,  and  many  others,  but  who  were 
treated  to  not  less  than  four  performances,  I  believe,  of 
Beethoven's  Fifth  Symphony  in  a  total  of  about  fifteen 
concerts  by  different  orchestras  in  one  season. 

The  same  system  of  colonization  prevails  in  our 
operatic  life,  only  that  cities  with  an  operatic  backbone 


148 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

of  their  own  are  still  fewer.  In  order  not  to  complicate 
matters,  let  me  disregard  New  Orleans,  where  opera 
has  been  cultivated  for  so  many  years  after  the  approved 
manner  of  prominent  cities  in  the  provinces  of  France, 
and  that  without  affecting  opera  in  other  American 
cities  to  any  noteworthy  extent.  For  a  similar  reason, 
San  Francisco  may  be  disregarded,  where  opera  is  made 
to  flourish  on  the  typically  Italian  plan.  We  may 
also  disregard,  for  the  moment,  the  several  itinerant 
opera  stock-companies  with  no  permanent  home  of 
their  own  and  without  permanent  affiliation  with  any 
particular  city. 

What,  then,  is  the  situation?  Our  operatic  life 
depends  on  probably  less,  but  certainly  not  more, 
than  four  distributing  centres:  New  York,  Boston, 
Chicago,  Philadelphia.  Since  the  days — only  half  a 
dozen  years  ago — when  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House 
Company  was  the  sole  distributor,  a  net  gain  of  three 
cities  whose  inhabitants  may  now  boast  of  a  regular 
season  of  opera  with  all  the  earmarks  of  what  we 
provincials  sometimes  call  the  approved  "New  York 
plan  of  opera."  On  these  four  distributing  centres  the 
rest  of  us  depend  for  the  from  two  or  three  to  perhaps 
a  dozen  yearly  opera  performances,  euphemistically 
called  "seasons,"  at  prices,  so  a  certain  circular  stated, 
within  the  reach  of  all,  which  meant  six  dollars  in  the 
orchestra  and  two  in  the  gallery.  But  such  is  the  lure 
of  stellar  opera  and  such  the  ravenous  hunger  of  our 
people  for  hearing  and  seeing  (through  the  medium  of 
half  a  dozen  or  less  famous  operas)  half  a  dozen  or  less 
box-office  magnets  whose  unquestionable  genius  as 
artists  is  matched  only  by  the  genius  of  their  press 
agents,  that  our  people,  with  a  subdued  murmur  of 
protest,  but  otherwise  gladly,  pay  these  prices,  necessary 
probably  on  account  of  the  great  expense  of  "grand 
opera"  on  the  road,  but  outrageous  exactly  under  these 
circumstances.     If  the  cultivation  of  the  art-form  of 


A   SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 149 

opera,  of  what  opera  may  mean  to  a  people  in  their 
craving  for  esthetic  culture  and  pleasure,  in  short,  of  a 
wholesome  operatic  life,  depends  on  such  artificial  con- 
ditions, then  opera  in  America — in  America,  not  in  four 
or  even  three  times  four  American  cities — is  condemned 
to  a  pitiful  failure.  Those  who  think  that  a  chain  of 
fifty  or  more  uniform  opera  houses  and  the  uniform 
dispensation  of  opera  along  this  chain,  will  solve  the 
complicated  problem  of  opera  in  America,  are  very  much 
mistaken;  that  is,  if  they  erect  their  opera  houses  as 
merely  so  many  more  receptacles  of  opera  devoted  by 
way  of  speculation  to  the  "New  York  plan  of  opera." 
Nobody  in  his  right  senses  will  question  the  excellence 
of  opera  performances  in  New  York  or  in  the  three 
cities  so  slavishly  imitating  New  York.  The  perform- 
ances by  no  means  always  bear  out  the  boast  that 
opera  has  reached  a  state  of  perfection  in  New  York 
not  to  be  found  elsewhere  in  the  world,  but  the  average 
is  high  enough  for  the  most  fastidious  taste.  It  is  not 
the  quality,  nor  the  quantity  of  opera  in  New  York 
with  which  I  find  fault,  but  the  fundamental  aspect  of 
your — from  an  art-economic  viewpoint — so  dangerously 
topheavy  institution.  Opera  in  New  York  impresses 
me  like  an  enormously  expensive  hot-house  full  of 
enormously  expensive  exotic  plants  of  luxuriant  growth. 
In  my  humble  opinion,  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House 
Company  shares  this  distinction  with  Covent  Garden, 
its  twin,  that  it  is  a  huge  incubator  of  an  antiquated 
system  of  opera.1  Antiquated,  because  all  other  nations 
have  found  out  long  ago  that  a  healthy  operatic  life 
depends  on  opera  in  the  vernacular.  Does  anybody 
suppose  for  a  moment  that  Italian  opera  would  have 
become  ingrown  into  the  Italian  nation's  daily  life,  if  for 
centuries  opera  had  stubbornly  been  performed  in  Italy 
in  English  instead  of  in  Italian?     Does  any  one  believe 

i  Please  note  that  I  did  not  say  "antiquated  opera  house,"  "antiquated  operas,' ' 
or  other  nonsense  of  that  kind.  I  am  criticizing  the  system  of  presentation  of  opera 
as  antiquated. 


150 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

for  a  moment  that  Wagner,  and  what  Wagner  means 
to  the  German  mind,  would  have  been  possible,  if  the 
Germans  had  not  thrown  off  the  foreign  yoke  long  ago? 
Is  anybody  naive  enough  to  fancy  that  French  opera 
would  be  so  fascinatingly  French,  if  the  clear-cut  maxim 
pronounced  by  Perrin  and  Cambert,  the  founders  of 
French  opera,  1659,  in  the  preface  to  their  very  first 
joint  creation,  that  operas  to  be  properly  appreciated 
should  be  performed  in  the  language  of  the  audience, 
had  not  been  heeded  by  Lully  and  his  successors  down 
to  Debussy? 

But  I  do  not  intend  to  shake  the  yellow  banner  of 
"Votes  for  Opera  in  English"  at  you.  I  have  been  an 
advocate  of  opera  in  English  for  so  many  years  that  I 
no  longer  allow  myself  to  be  dragged  into  argument 
on  the  subject.  I  now  answer  all  questions  of  why, 
wearily  with  the  counter-question  of  why  not?  In  your 
newspapers  and  elsewhere  the  arguments  for  and 
against  opera  in  the  vernacular — which,  by  the  way, 
had  a  very  respectable  artistic  and  even  financial  record 
in  our  country  before  it  was  temporarily  side-tracked 
by  the  present  system — have  been  thrashed  out  so 
often  and  so  thoroughly  that  it  would  serve  no  useful 
purpose  to  add  here  to  the  number  of  dead  and  wounded. 
Only  this  I  wish  to  say,  that  in  my  opinion  every  argu- 
ment, except  one,  usually  advanced  against  opera  in 
the  vernacular,  which  in  our  country,  of  course,  means 
opera  in  English,  deals  with  difficulties,  but  difficulties 
are  never  reasons  for  or  against  the  adoption  of  reforms. 
This  one  exception  is  the  argument  that  a  performance 
of  an  opera  in  its  original  language  comes  nearest  to 
esthetic  perfection. 

In  theory,  yes;  in  practice,  not  necessarily  so;  but, 
quite  aside  from  the  ludicrous  inconsistencies  of  the 
champions  of  this  argument,  it  is  the  argument  of  the 
selfish  esthetic  gourmet,  not  the  argument  of  the  man 
who  has  the  best  interests  of  opera  at  heart,  as  viewed 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 151 

from  the  standpoint  of  national  need.  An  opera  may 
or  may  not  lose  something  of  its  esthetic  significance  by 
translation,  but  this  eventual  loss  is  more  than  offset 
by  the  gain  that  opera  in  the  vernacular,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  auditor  desirous  of  understanding 
and  not  only  hearing  and  seeing  opera,  stops  being  a 
pantomime  with  vocalises  and  becomes,  what  it  was 
intended  for  by  its  creators,  a  musical  drama.  Whenever 
this  libretto  bugaboo  is  paraded  before  me,  I  can  not 
help  thinking  of  Germany.  There  Goethe,  Schiller  and 
Shakespeare  form  the  triumvirate  of  the  dramatic 
repertoire.  Not  Shakespeare  in  English,  but  Shake- 
speare in  translations  that  are  works  of  art;  and  the 
love  of  educated  Germans  for  Shakespeare,  their  appre- 
ciation of  his  genius,  their  familiarity  with  his  works,  is 
something  wonderful  to  behold.  This  being  the  case,  I 
ask  the  simple  question:  Did  Shakespeare  suffer  or 
gain  by  his  conquest  of  Germany  through  the  medium 
of  artistic  translations? 

The  more  radical  opponents  of  opera  in  the  vernacular 
sometimes  deny  that  the  texts  of  operas  sung  in  English 
would  really  be  so  much  better  understood  than  the 
texts  if  sung  in  the  original  language.  They  point  to 
some  rather  notable  failures  in  this  respect,  when  opera 
in  English  with  very  commendable  good  will  was  tried 
on  our  audiences.  The  argument  has  been  answered  in 
several  ways,  but  one  telling  answer  or  explanation,  it 
seems  to  me,  has  been  neglected.  It  is  this,  that  a  lan- 
guage sung  and  a  language  spoken,  sound  very  different. 
Language  sung  is  a  jargon,  the  understanding  of  which 
depends  on  an  acquired  taste  and  on  practice.  Supposing 
a  Frenchman  who  has  never  been  to  opera  hears  for  the 
first  time  his  language  sung  from  the  stage  by  artists 
famed  for  their  clear  diction  and  enunciation.  I  guar- 
antee that  he  will  not  understand  five  per  cent  of  the 
words  this  first  time,  and  that  without  the  fault  of  the 
singers.    But  with  continued  practice  of  his  ear,  he  will 


152 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

gather  in  a  higher  and  higher  percentage,  until  it  may 
reach  forty  or  fifty.  In  other  words,  the  success  of 
opera  in  the  vernacular  depends  as  much  on  the  practice 
of  the  audience  to  listen  to  its  own  language  in  the 
disguise  of  musical  speech,  as  on  the  practice  of  the 
singers  to  sing  therein  and  the  practice  of  the  composer 
to  compose  therein.  At  any  rate,  it  seems  to  me  that 
a  system  of  opera  which  might  enable  the  practiced 
listener  to  understand  forty  per  cent  of  the  words — 
which  means  a  proportionate  better  understanding  of 
the  subtle  relations  between  text  and  music — is  decidedly 
more  sensible  than  a  system  of  opera  which  offers  him 
only  five  chances  in  a  hundred. 

In  this  connection  I  should  like  to  draw  attention  to  a 
correlated  fact,  usually  overlooked  in  the  discussion  of 
the  problem.  The  artificiality  of  our  present  system  has 
not  been  so  apparent  here  as  it  would  be  in  cities  abroad, 
because  the  population  of  New  York  is  so  cosmopolitan. 
Especially  the  German  language  has  no  terrors  for  a 
considerable  percentage  of  your  opera-goers,  for  the 
very  simple  reason  that  they  are  German-Americans 
and  understand  German.  But  the  German  emigrants 
to  the  United  States  now  amount  to  only  about  15,000 
persons  a  year;  moreover,  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
the  second  and  surely  the  third  native  generation  of 
German-Americans  loses  its  command  of  the  German 
language  completely.  The  more  the  consequences  of 
such  facts  spread  to  our  art-economics,  the  more  ap- 
parent, even  to  New  Yorkers,  the  artificiality  of  their 
operatic  system  will  become. 

That  opera  in  English  will  be  a  panacea  for  all  the 
evils  in  our  operatic  life,  or  that  opera  in  English  per  se 
will  produce  great  American  opera-composers,  is  not  my 
contention,  but  this  much  I  predict  without  hesitation: 
Unless  the  system  is  again  reversed  preponderantly — 
I  do  not  say  exclusively — in  favor  of  opera  in  the 
vernacular,  we  shall  not  have  a  healthy  operatic  life 


A  SURVEY  OF  MUSIC  IN  AMERICA 153 

in  this  country.  Nor  do  I  fear  for  the  ultimate  outcome. 
The  readjustment  will  be  difficult  and  will  require 
extraordinary  executive  ability  and  bull-dog  tenacity, 
but  it  will  come  sooner  or  later.  Then,  not  the  type  of 
art-speculator  who  dabbles  in  more  or  less  shrewd 
experiments  with  public  taste,  will  stand  out  in  our 
operatic  history  as  the  moving  force,  but  those  men  who 
have  been  for  years  the  practical  pioneers  in  this  move- 
ment for  opera  in  the  vernacular  and  whose  faith  in 
the  common  sense  of  our  people  will  yet  be  vindicated. 
Their  itinerant  companies  often  leave  much  to  be 
desired  from  the  purely  artistic  standpoint,  but  never- 
theless they  are  doing  more  for  a  proper  dissemination 
of  opera  as  an  intelligible  form  of  art  in  America  at 
large  than  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House  Company 
and  all  its  imitators  put  together.  And  should  luck  so 
favor  the  English-speaking  nations  as  to  give  us  in  the 
near  future  opera-composers  of  the  victorious  sweep  of 
a  Gounod  or  Puccini,  not  to  mention  giants  like  Wagner 
and  Verdi,  the  doom  of  the  present  system  will  be 
sealed  irresistibly  and  rapidly.1  To  harp  on  the  deserved 
or  undeserved  failure  of  a  few  American  operas  by  com- 
posers without  previous  individual  or  collective  ex- 
perience as  opera-composers  as  proof  that  English- 
speaking  people  can  not  produce  real  opera-composers, 
is  eminently  silly.  If  English-speaking  people  could 
produce  a  musico-dramatic  genius  like  Henry  Purcell 
once,  nothing  prevents  them  from  doing  so  again.  It  is 
a  question  of  nature's  caprice,  of  talent,  and  of  oppor- 
tunity, combined,  not  a  question  of  national  tempera- 
ment, just  as  our  national  temperament  does  not  hinder 
us  from  turning  out  in  almost  unlimited  numbers  opera- 
singers  who  have  conquered  first  the  Old  World  and 

i  Later,  in  conversation  with  a  friend,  I  expressed  this  as  my  opinion  of  an 
ideal  solution  of  the  whole  knotty  problem:  opera  to  be  performed  as  a  rule  and 
everywhere  in  our  country  (New  York  included)  in  English  except  at  the  Metro- 
politan Opera  House,  which  should  continue  to  aim  (and  still  more  earnestly 
than  now)  at  unsurpassable  model  performances  of  master-operas  new  and  old 
in  the  original  language  and  with  as  little  subserviency  to  the  changing  taste  of 
the  public  as  would  be  compatible  with  the  financial  security  of  the  institution. 


154 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

then  the  New,  and  who  can  hold  their  own  against  the 
best  of  foreign  artists. 

With  this  fervent  appeal  to  nature  for  a  second  Henry 
Purcell,  and  with  an  earnest  appeal  to  the  powers  that  be 
to  persist  in  their  enlightened  encouragement  of  the 
American  opera-composer  until  succ&s  d'estime  or  failure 
are  superseded  by  emphatic  success,  I  bring  to  an  end 
these,  at  best,  long-distance  impressions  of  music  in 
America  by  a  firm  believer  in  its  future  who  happens  to 
hail  from  Washington,  unfortunately  as  yet  the  musi- 
cally most  provincial  capital  of  present  world-powers. 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 


ANTON   BEER-WALBRUNN 

(New  Music  Review,  1909) 

Presumably  not  one  in  a  thousand  of  the  readers  of 
"The  New  Music  Review"  knows  whether  this  hyphen- 
ated German  is  a  pianist,  vocalist,  or  conductor.  Beer- 
Walbrunn  belongs  to  neither  of  these  fertile  tribes.  He 
is  a  composer,  born  in  Bavaria  in  the  same  month  of 
the  same  year  as  Richard  Strauss.  Otherwise  these 
two  have  nothing  in  common,  either  in  personal  appear- 
ance, business  instincts,  artistic  tendencies  or  type  of 
talent.  Beer-Walbrunn  does  not  possess  the  dare- 
deviltry  of  Strauss  in  igniting  heaps  of  rubbish  with 
immense  sparks  of  genius,  nor  the  consummate  skill 
of  that  other  Bavarian  in  blending  Bach,  Brahms  and 
Reger  into  a  Janus-personality  that  now  revels  in 
repulsive,  external  complications  and  then  speaks  from 
the  depths  in  simple  musical  truths.  Beer-Walbrunn 
is  not  a  man  of  violent  contrasts,  not  the  fascinating 
high-priest  of  a  new  cult  like  Debussy;  he  could  never 
stagger  humanity  and  he  has  not  the  sweeping  gesture 
of  triumphant  genius  that  overwhelms,  offends  and 
breeds  rebellion.  This  is  Beer-Walbrunn's  misfortune 
so  far  as  worldly  recognition  and  worldly  goods  go,  but 
he  possesses  some  rare  qualities  which  have  added,  to 
Germany's  unfashionable  individualities,  one  who  com- 
mands respect  for  fidelity  to  his  own  ideals  and  who  is 
winning  one  by  one  firm  believers  in  his  uncommon 
gifts.  Beer-Walbrunn  has  gradually  grown  into  a  master 
who  in  an  international  exhibition  of  fine  arts  would  be 
accorded  a  nook  all  by  himself  by  virtue  of  unmistakable 
individuality,  though  the  hanging  committee  might 
cordially  dislike  his  style,  technique  and  artistic  creed. 
In  music  we  have  not  yet  attained   to  this  spirit  of 

157 


158 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

professional  courtesy.  We  musicians  are  possessed  of 
the  vicious  craze  to  squeeze  musical  art-values  into 
three  or  four  channels.  We  are  essentially  politicians 
with  the  methods  of  even  the  ward  politician,  and  we 
sacrifice  too  often  the  interests  of  our  art  to  intolerance, 
party  interests  and  party  prejudice.  In  our  wild  rush 
for  the  sensational,  we  forget  that  the  aggressively  new 
has  its  conventional  patterns,  too,  and  we  allow  the 
dust  from  the  broad  highways  to  blind  our  eyes  to 
beauty,  less  "modern,"  less  fashionable,  less  conspicuous, 
but  just  as  durable,  that  is  hidden  in  the  byways. 

To  continue  the  simile:  Paul  Moos,  the  eminent 
critic  and  esthetician,  once  said  that  there  is  a  corner  to 
Beer-Walbrunn's  art  which  one  must  pass  before  one 
may  understand  and  love  him,  exactly  as  was  the  case 
with  the  novels  of  Wilhelm  Raabe.  Moos  used  the 
word  "Ecke."  This,  and  still  more  the  adjective  "eckig," 
suggest  a  nuance  not  in  the  literal  translation  "corner". 
The  German  word  conveys  the  impression  of  something 
almost  stiff  and  awkward.  If  this  is  putting  it  too 
severely,  look  at  any  of  Durer's  woodcuts,  and  the 
typically  German  nuance  of  the  word  "Ecke"  will 
need  no  further  explanation,  as  applied  to  Beer-Wal- 
brunn's art.  Nor  is  this  quality,  which  has  so  often 
stood  between  him  and  his  critics,  of  mysterious  pro- 
venience, if  we  apply  the  biographical  test. 

Let  us  see  what  Riemann  says: 

"  .  .  .  b.  June  29,  1864,  at  Kohlberg  near  Weiden  (upper  Bavaria), 
son  of  a  village  schoolmaster,  visited  the  preparatory  school  at 
Regensburg  and  the  seminary  at  Arnberg,  became  assistant-teacher 
there  and  later  at  Eichstatt,  (also  cathedral  organist,)  gave  up 
the  schoolmaster's  career  and  became  with  the  financial  assistance 
of  Domkapellmeister  W.  Widmann  of  Eichstatt  a  student  at  the 
Royal  Conservatory  at  Munich.    .    .    .  " 

These  data  spell  Bavarian  province  where  Bavaria  is 
most  provincial.  Barren  of  sentiment,  as  befits  a  bio- 
graphical dictionary,  they  do  not  tell  the  tale  of  priva- 
tion  and    misery   from   childhood   on,   well   known    to 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 159 

Beer-Walbrunn's  friends;  not  the  tale  of  tragic  conflict 
between  instinct,  ambition  on  one  side  and  filial  duty, 
tradition  on  the  other,  for,  musical  as  Beer-Walbrunn's 
father  was  and  musical  as  he  tried  to  make  his  boy,  a 
schoolmaster  he  should  become  like  his  forebears,  and 
not  a  musician.  Nor  do  the  data  tell  us  how  Beer- 
Walbrunn  grew  up  to  an  intimate  knowledge  of  Pales- 
trina,  Bach,  the  classics,  but  how  Wagner's  "Lohengrin" 
was  about  the  border-line  of  his  familiarity  with  modern 
music.  They  do  not  inform  us  how  he  drilled  amateur 
orchestras,  mastered  half  a  dozen  instruments,  besides 
the  organ,  became  a  routinier  in  young  years  and  poured 
forth  works  large  and  small  with  a  strong  leaning  towards 
program  music,  for  which  in  later  years  he  has  shown 
very  little  sympathy.  And  the  Musiklexikon,  as  if 
Beer-Walbrunn  had  resorted  to  feminine  reticence  on 
the  question  of  age,  omits  the  most  important  point: 
he  remained  a  routined  but  esthetically  underfed  auto- 
didact  until  he  entered  the  conservatory  at  Munich  in 
1889,  leaving  it  with  the  official  trade-mark  of  the 
musical  profession  in  1891. 

Here  then  was  a  would-be  composer,  country-bred 
and  province-fed,  who  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  is 
subjected  to  a  polishing  process  by  a  conservative 
master  like  Rheinberger,  and  who  at  the  same  time  is 
suddenly  thrown  into  a  hotbed  of  conflicting  artistic 
tendencies  like  Munich.  Obviously,  such  a  man  will 
begin  life  anew  in  a  different  direction  from  him  who, 
though  perhaps  born  on  the  farm,  breathes  the  air  of 
a  musical  metropolis  at  the  age  when  men  are  like  wax 
in  the  hands  of  their  teachers  and  models.  This  climatic 
influence  during  the  period  of  germination  will  persist, 
and  no  transportation  or  inoculation  of  the  maturing 
mind  will  fully  efface  the  influence.  Some  of  its  char- 
acteristic qualities  may  be  detrimental,  others  invigor- 
ating, and  since  many  roads  lead  to  Rome,  it  merely 
depends  on  a  reserve  fund  of  talent  and  individuality 


160 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

to  become  what  Lachner  called  "Audi  Einer."  The 
finished  product  may  not  at  all  fit  into  the  current  order 
of  things,  but  that  does  not  necessarily  detract  from  its 
intrinsic  art  value.  Nor  is  it  at  all  just  to  impeach  an 
outsider  and  not  the  favorites  for  defects  which  are 
the  results  of  early  surroundings. 

In  Beer-Walbrunn's  art  one  is  struck  first  of  all  by 
the  fact  that  Wagner's  "Lohengrin"  appears  to  have 
been  the  ultima  Thule  of  his  formative  period,  barring 
some  reminiscences  of  later  visions  that  flow  into  every 
composer's  pen.  He  apparently  drew  no  real  nourish- 
ment from  Brahms.  Even  the  last  Beethoven  appears 
to  have  sown  few  seeds.  Mozart,  more  than  any  other 
master,  seems  to  have  stood  godfather  to  his  ideals, 
and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  he  enjoyed  Mendels- 
sohn immensely  in  the  formative  period  of  his  life  and 
that  he  came  under  the  lasting  spell  of  Schubert  and 
Schumann.  A  provincial  Bavarian,  he  did  not  escape 
Lachner  and  later  Rheinberger.  Therefore,  the  basic 
foundation  of  his  style  is  far  removed  from  the  "New- 
Germans"  of  the  Weimar  fraternity  and  cannot  appeal 
to  those  who  fail  to  see  in  a  man  like  Rheinberger  more 
than  a  mere  conservative  or  even  reactionary  school- 
master. But  Rheinberger  is  really  underestimated 
nowadays.  He  impresses  me,  at  least,  as  a  kind  of 
German  Saint-Saens.  At  any  rate,  he  was  an  excellent 
model  for  acquiring  mastery  of  form,  solidity  of  work- 
manship and  a  delicate  ear  against  unnecessary  contra- 
puntal noise  and  melodic  harshness.  Oddly  enough, 
Beer-Walbrunn  does  not  figure  among  his  favorite 
pupils.  This  is  not  surprising,  since  he,  though  working 
on  the  same  basis,  reached  out  for  harmonic  and  orches- 
tral combinations  which  Rheinberger  instinctively  felt 
to  be  beyond  his  own  time  and  horizon. 

Thus  Beer-Walbrunn,  below  a  somewhat  archaic  sur- 
face, is  modern  in  spirit  and  quite  as  progressive  as 
some  of  his  better  known  contemporaries.    He  and  they 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 161_ 

are  simply  incommensurable,  the  more  so  because  Beer- 
Walbrunn,  not  unlike  MacDowell,  ostensibly  cultivates 
clear-cut  melodic  curves  and  believes  in  "melodies"  as 
against  interval-speech.  In  fact,  he  prides  himself  on  be- 
ing a  "melodischer  Moderner,"  and  this  melodic  gift  and 
tendency  gives  even  his  declamatory  passages  a  peculiar 
twist;  but  it  also  explains  his  willingness  to  repeat 
words  not  so  much  for  a  subtle  nuance  of  expression  as 
for  the  sake  of  melodic  form.  Furthermore,  his  music 
is  not  at  all  polyrhythmic,  and  therein  he  differs  in 
principle  from  MacDowell.  Indeed,  it  is  difficult  to 
become  accustomed  to  his  rhythmic  regularity.  There 
is  something  carre,  undeniably  old-fashioned  and  mono- 
tonous about  his  rhythm.  One  hears,  as  it  were,  the 
bar-line  altogether  too  often.  This  is  all  the  more 
noticeable,  since  his  style  is  inherently  homophonic 
except  when  the  organist  elopes  with  his  better  half, 
and  then  his  familiarity  with  Bach  leads  him  into  a 
curious  conflict  between  early  eighteenth-century  coun- 
terpoint, early  nineteenth-century  homophony  and  late 
nineteenth-century  heterophony. 

Beer-Walbrunn's  harmonies  are  close  and  compact. 
He  rarely  mirrors  overtones  as  do  Chopin,  Debussy,  or 
(in  a  less  prismatic  manner)  Strauss.  His  harmonies  are 
rather  of  velvety  smoothness,  not  infrequently  remark- 
able for  sheer  beauty,  and  occasionally  Beer-Walbrunn 
takes  one  quite  unawares  by  the  bold  blending  of  tints 
that  in  their  fullness  are  quite  his  own.  It  would  be 
well  for  his  reputation  if  one  could  say  the  same  of  his 
treatment  of  the  pianoforte.  Unfortunately,  though 
pianistic  and  well  sounding,  it  cannot  interest  the 
modern  pianist,  because  Beer-Walbrunn  has  given 
Chopin  and  Liszt  a  wide  berth.  Mozart,  Hummel — 
some  have  said  Hiinten,  Kuhlau — have  led  him  into 
a  blind  alley.  Decidedly  provincial  and  antiquated 
are  his  untrimmed  scales  and  arpeggios.  Thus,  modern 
fingers  do  not  take  kindly  to  the  intricacies  of  a  pianistic 


162 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

style  whose  individuality  and  occasional  brilliancy  are 
due  merely  to  an  inbred  development  of  old-fashioned 
methods  and  formulas.  Worse  than  this  is  the  uneven 
level  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  ideas.  He  can  be  exasperat- 
ingly  conventional.  This  defect  he  shares,  of  course, 
with  many  other  contemporaries,  but  their  convention- 
ality does  not  jar  so  because  it  still  possesses  a  degree 
of  freshness,  whereas  Beer-Walbrunn's  dates  from  our 
grandfathers,  and  conventionalities  certainly  do  not 
improve  with  age.  Between  the  conventional  and  the 
commonplace  there  is  a  fine  line  of  distinction,  and 
exceedingly  few  composers  do  not  overstep  this  line 
at  the  critical  moment.  To  these  few  Beer-Walbrunn 
does  not  belong.  He  can  be  downright  commonplace 
in  the  midst  of  his  most  splendid  flights  of  fancy,  and 
when  the  commonplace  and  the  conventional  meet  in 
his  music,  the  jar  is  sudden  and  paralyzing.  But  jus- 
tice demands  the  statement  that  of  late  years  he  has 
gained  almost  complete  control  over  his  self-critical 
faculties  and  now  rarely  succumbs  to  bad  taste  in  the 
selection  of  his  ideas.  While  they  still  at  times  do  not 
rise  above  old-fashioned  patterns,  they  seldom  give  the 
rabble  the  welcome  hand. 

If  Beer-Walbrunn  were  merely  a  musical  hayseed,  a 
German  Yankee  Doodle  come  to  town,  he  could  pass 
muster  only  as  an  anachronistic  curiosity.  But  behind 
the  provincial  mannerisms  there  are  brain,  heart  and 
personality.  As  he  cannot  bluff  by  appearances,  he 
must,  more  than  the  city-bred  composer  faultlessly 
dressed  after  the  latest  fashion  plates,  stand  on  real 
merit.  Nor  is  it  at  all  certain  that  his  provincialism 
is  a  mere  tower  of  weakness.  At  any  rate,  he  brought 
with  him  from  the  backwoods  the  precious  gift  of 
naivete  and  the  equally  precious  gift  of  unstudied 
simplicity.  Absolutely  sincere  in  his  utterances,  he 
would  never  deliberately  commit  a  musical  falsehood  or 
advertise  himself  by  a  cheap  jeu  d 'esprit.     He  abhors 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 163 

artificial  brilliancy  and  scorns  the  present  tendency  to 
drag  virtuosity  for  virtuosity's  sake  into  the  composer's 
art.  Of  the  poseur  there  is  no  trace  in  him.  He  derides 
the  fallacy  that  bigness  is  synonymous  with  greatness 
and  that  a  musical  idea,  to  be  profound  and  beautiful, 
must  be  complicated  and  spicy.  Neither  does  he  seek 
complications,  nor  does  he  avoid  them.  He  merely 
holds  that  they  must  come  about  naturally  and  not  be 
a  matter  of  musical  upholstery.  He  avoids  violent 
contrasts  and  everything  that  smacks  of  the  intem- 
perate, morbid,  sensational.  Bumptious  bathos  and 
maudlin  sentimentality  are  equally  foreign  to  his  nature. 
Thus,  old-fashioned  and  provincial  Beer-Walbrunn  may 
be  in  some  respects,  but  he  is  not  decadent.  Virility 
is  the  keynote  of  his  art,  that  virility  which  combines 
robustness  with  delicacy  of  sentiment  and  refinement 
of  expression.  Firmly  convinced  that  an  artist  of  his 
type,  too,  has  a  right  of  existence,  he  is  not  a  man  of 
opportunistic  compromise.  Quietly  and  undisturbed 
by  praise  or  sneers,  he  bides  his  time  in  the  belief  that 
sooner  or  later  the  pendulum  of  taste  will  swing  back 
to  the  most  conspicuous  quality  of  his  art,  that  for 
which  the  Germans  have  the  untranslatable  word  "volks- 
tumlich."  Add  to  this  a  masterly  technique,  enviable 
contrapuntal  resourcefulness,  a  genuinely  South  Ger- 
man jovial  humor  and  gracefulness,  spontaneity,  cere- 
bral and  emotional  depth,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that 
Beer-Walbrunn  is  looked  upon  by  many  as  a  musical 
hermit  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  future. 

The  peculiar  physiology  and  psychology  of  Beer- 
Walbrunn's  art  could  not  but  have  a  counterpart  in 
the  peculiar  reception  it  has  found  at  the  hands  of  the 
critics  and  the  public.  Beer-Walbrunn  has  reached  his 
opus  40  since  1889,  after  discarding  entirely  his  numer- 
ous earlier  works.  Nor  are  opera  2-7  of  much  account, 
since  they  comprise  merely  his  more  serious  efforts 
under  Rheinberger,  such  as  the  regulation  symphony, 


164 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

string  quartets,  etc.  Opus  1  covers  two  really  fine 
choruses  selected  judiciously  for  publication  from  among 
a  number  of  similar  works,  and  it  is  very  characteristic 
that  they  surpass  in  originality  most  things  he  com- 
posed after  it  had  become  Rheinberger's  right  and  duty 
to  wield  the  blue  pencil.  With  his  opus  8,  a  Quartet 
for  pianoforte  and  strings,  composed  in  1892,  Beer- 
Walbrunn  entered  the  public  arena.  One  or  two  ex- 
cepted, all  his  later  works  have  been  performed,  and  it 
is  purely  a  matter  of  statistics  to  state  that  the  public 
seldom  failed  to  side  with  him  vigorously,  whereas  pro- 
fessional criticism  of  his  works  has  always  ranged  be- 
tween condemnation  and  unreserved  praise.  I  possess 
a  goodly  collection  of  these  reviews.  They  would  make 
very  curious  comparative  reading,  the  more  so  because 
certain  dreaded  German  critics  who  formerly  sneered 
at  Anton  Beer-Walbrunn  have  completely  changed 
front  and  now  give  him  his  due.  Indeed,  since  Beer- 
Walbrunn's  path  was  strewn  with  thorns,  since  between 
the  time  of  Count  Schack's  generous  patronage  shortly 
before  the  death  of  this  esteemed  scholar  and  con- 
noisseur and  Beer-Walbrunn's  appointment  in  1901  to 
a  not  very  lucrative  professorship  at  his  alma  mater  at 
Munich,  his  life  was  filled  with  bitter  disappointments, 
it  must  be  said  that  Beer-Walbrunn  has  been  treated 
shabbily  and  ungentlemanly  by  more  than  one  critic. 
This  opposition  has  not  even  stopped  at  untruths,  and 
more  than  one  case  is  on  record  where  a  critic  deliber- 
ately suppressed  or  reversed  the  fact  that  the  audience 
was  most  decidedly  for  and  not  against  Beer-Walbrunn. 
Not  that  I  hold  that  a  critic  should  always  take  notice 
of  the  audience's  applause  or  silence,  but  if  he  does  he 
should  at  least  adhere  to  the  plain  facts  and  not  confuse 
the  vox  populi  with  the  vox  critici. 

Surely,  a  composer  who  compels  the  attention  and 
applause  of  trained  audiences  on  the  rare  occasions  that 
performers  have  accorded  his  works  a  public  hearing, 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNM 165 

who  divides  his  critics  into  two  camps,  and  who  has 
gathered  around  himself  a  small  but  faithful  army  of 
admirers,  must  have  qualities  far  above  mediocrity. 
Unfortunately,  Beer-Walbrunn's  music  is  not  of  the 
kind  to  create  a  wild  rush  of  competition  between 
publishers.  On  the  contrary,  its  commercial  possibilities 
are  limited  because,  though  "volkstumlich"  in  tone,  it 
will  never  become  popular.  So  it  happens  that  more 
than  half  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  by  no  means  torrential 
bagage  remains  unpublished,  and  sadly  enough  most 
of  his  later  and  maturer  works.  His  manuscript  music 
includes  a  Symphonic  Phantasy,  Op.  1 1 ;  a  choral  work, 
"Mahomets  Gesang,"  Op.  16  (Nuremberg,  1896);  a 
Quintet  for  pianoforte  and  strings,  Op.  17;  his  fourth 
String  Quartet,  Op.  19;  an  Organ  Sonata,  Op.  32;  a 
Sonata  for  violin  and  piano,  Op.  30;  a  Symphony  in 
E  major,  Op.  36;  a  Symphonic  Poem;  three  Preludes 
to  Josef  Riiderer's  paraphrase  of  Aristophanes'  "Birds," 
Op.  40;  the  opera  "Don  Quijote,"  many  songs,  etc. 
Most  of  these  works  have  been  performed  at  Munich, 
Berlin,  Leipzig  and  elsewhere  with  the  typical  result 
stated  above.  No  less  a  man  than  Karl  Straube, 
Reger's  champion,  characterized  the  organ  sonata  as 
"colossal,"  but  its  difficulties  and  fantastic  combination 
of  realistic  and  mystic  moods  have  deterred  publishers. 
Still  more  astonishing  is  their  timidity  towards  the 
splendid  violin  sonata.  Since  Berber  and  Staven- 
hagen  went  on  a  tournee  with  it  early  in  1906,  the  work 
has  reappeared  with  increasing  appreciation  every  season 
on  the  chamber-music  programs  of  Munich.  Extra- 
ordinary has  also  been  the  fate  of  the  opera  "Don 
Quijote,"  composed  to  the  verses  of  Georg  Fuchs, 
whose  verse-drama,  "Till  Eulenspiegel,"  and  other 
works,  have  stamped  him  one  of  the  real  poets  of 
young  Germany,  but  one  who  also  unfortunately  under- 
mines the  effectiveness  of  his  dramatic  works — and 
"Don   Quijote"    is   not   an   exception — by   undramatic 


166 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

"knots"  and  episodes.  Two  acts  were  practically  com- 
pleted as  early  as  1896,  but  the  composer  rewrote  and 
revised  much  of  the  opera  time  and  again  before  he 
felt  satisfied  with  what  he  craved  to  make  his  master- 
work.  What  happened?  Finished  at  last  after  almost 
ten  years  of  incessant  polishing,  the  score  made  the 
customary  round  of  the  principal  opera  houses  with  the 
result  that  none  of  the  conductors  cared  to  risk  his 
reputation  on  an  unquestionably  inspired  work  which 
boldly  disregarded  the  superstition  of  theatrical  folk 
against  Cervantes'  immortal  Don  as  the  hero  of  an 
opera.  No  Don  Quijote  opera  had  yet  succeeded;  why 
should  this  one,  which  purported  to  be  not  a  comic 
opera  but  a  musical  tragi-comedy  and  one  with  music 
rooted  firmly  in  German  soil,  without  the  slightest 
attempt  at  local  Spanish  color?1  Finally,  Beer-Wal- 
brunn  pinned  his  faith  on  Mottl,  who  had  taken  charge 
of  the  slightly  dilapidated  opera  at  Munich.  Mottl  con- 
descended to  look  into  the  score,  but  stumbled  at  Beer- 
Walbrunn's  "corner."  This  being  no  new  experience, 
Beer-Walbrunn  merely  requested,  as  a  favor,  to  play 
the  work  for  Mottl.  The  great  Felix  consented,  im- 
mediately saw  his  mistake,  and  henceforth  became 
convinced  that  here  at  last  two  congenial  artists  had 
conquered  (even  though  in  a  Teutonic  spirit)  the  "Don 
Quijote"  theme  for  the  stage.  But  even  during  the 
rehearsals  of  the  opera,  which  calls  for  not  less  than 
twelve  dramatis  persona,  Beer-Walbrunn's  ill-luck  pur- 
sued him.  The  proverbially  perfidious  climate  of 
Munich  played  havoc  with  the  vocal  cords  of  Munich's 

iFor  the  benefit  of  dabblers  and  dabsters  in  local  color  I  interject  here  this 
episode.  To  ridicule  those  German  composers  who,  in  imitation  of  Humperdinck, 
interlarded  their  scores  with  folk-songs,  Beer-Walbrunn  utilized  the  folk-song 
"Uber  Stock  und  Uber  Stein"  for  the  brilliant  orchestral  interlude  "The  Ride 
of  Don  Quijote  and  Sancho  Pansa  through  the  Black  Mountains."  Promptly 
he  was  taken  to  task  for  this  aberration  from  Spanish  local  color  by  pedants  who 
did  not  see  the  point  of  the  joke.  Yet,  when  the  Spanish  conductor  Cortolezis 
was  touring  Spain  a  few  years  ago  with  one  of  the  Munich  orchestras,  this  very 
piece  in  its  concert  version  excited  Spanish  audiences  to  enthusiastic  applause. 
Music  as  German  as  Dinkelsbuhl!  Had  it  been  dipped  in  "local  color,"  presumably 
Spanish  audiences  would  not  have  recognized  it  and  would  have  remained  pro- 
foundly unmoved  by  Spanish  music  made  in  Germany. 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 167 

stars  and  the  first  performance  had  to  be  postponed  so 
often  that  it  became  a  joke  in  I sar- Athens.  At  last, 
on  January  1,  1908,  Mottl  performed  "Don  Quijote" 
to  an  enthusiastic,  crowded  house,  which  agreed  that 
Feinhals  in  the  title-part  had  perhaps  reached  the  climax 
of  his  career.  Everything  looked  favorable  for  a  long 
run  of  the  opera,  but  the  weather  gods  had  taken  a 
violent  dislike  to  Beer-Walbrunn  and  put  one  singer 
after  the  other  out  of  commission — with  the  result 
that  "Don  Quijote"  was  heard  barely  three  times  at 
long  intervals,  though  each  time  scoring  a  complete 
success.  As  usual,  critical  opinion  was  divided.  The 
veteran  Wagnerian,  Otto  Lessmann,  for  instance,  who 
never  did  care  for  Beer-Walbrunn's  music,  condemned 
the  work.  How  could  he  help  it,  since  this  "Don 
Quijote"  is  a  deliberate  attempt  to  break  away  from 
the  post-Wagnerian  formula  and  to  be,  as  it  were,  for 
Germany  what  Bizet's  "Carmen"  was  for  France? 
It  may  even  be  doubted  that  Lessmann  would  have 
backed  water  as  did  other  critics  who  frankly  ad- 
mitted that  "Don  Quijote"  gains  remarkably  on  a 
second  hearing!  A  revolutionary  work  in.  the  sense  of 
"Pelleas  et  Melisande,"  Beer-Walbrunn's  "Don  Quijote" 
certainly  is  not,  but  it  has  proved  that  there  still  is 
talent  in  Germany  for  a  natural  flow  of  winsome  or 
stately  melody,  for  skillful  ensembles  (e.  g.,  the  superbly 
beautiful  finale  of  the  last  act)  and  subdued  orchestra- 
tion, beside  the  stilted  post- Wagnerian  "Sprechgesang," 
long-winded,  contorted  mythological,  medieval  or  bib- 
lical monologues  and  orchestral  earthquakes.1  The 
immediate  result  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  victory,  a  local 

i  Felix  Mottl  remained  faithful  to  "Don  Quijote."  At  his  suggestion  Georg 
Fuchs  remedied  certain  dramaturgic  defects  in  the  libretto  and  in  this  improved 
version  (which  is  also  that  of  the  published  vocal  score)  Mottl  rehearsed  a  revival 
of  the  opera  in  1910 — when  he  died.  Again  the  opera  had  to  be  shelved.  Then 
on  October  14,  1911,  it  scored  a  success  recorded  by  the  critics  as  deservedly 
still  more  pronounced  than  in  1908.  At  last  Beer-Walbrunn's  bad  luck  seemed 
to  have  left  him,  but — his  "Sancho  Pansa"  became  sick  before  the  second  per- 
formance and  could  not  be  replaced.  Again  the  opera  was  shelved  and  it  has 
remained  shelved,  for  those  in  power  since  Mottl's  death  are  not  in  sympathy 
with  Beer-Walbrunn's  musical  ideals.  I  believe  Mottl's  estimate  of  the  opera 
to  have  been  correct  and  theirs  wrong. 


168 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

victory  as  the  North  Germans  would  have  it,  was  his 
engagement  to  compose  the  preludes  to  Riiderer's  para- 
phrase of  Aristophanes'  "Birds"  under  the  queer  title 
of  "Wolkenkuckucksheim."  This  work  was  performed 
twelve  times  last  summer  at  that  fascinating  experiment 
in  dramaturgies,  the  "Miinchener  Kunstler theater,"  and 
every  time  Beer-Walbrunn's  preludes  came  in  for  a 
special  round  of  applause.  It  is  not  surprising,  there- 
fore, that  the  preludes  have  been  accepted  by  several 
conductors  for  performance  this  winter  in  the  form  of 
a  suite. 

The  fact  that  all  these  works  and  others,  though 
repeatedly  performed,  are  not  available  in  print,  puts 
those  at  a  disadvantage  whom  curiosity  might  tempt 
to  become  acquainted  with  Beer-Walbrunn.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  works  published  put  me  and  others  at 
a  disadvantage  who  wish  to  call  attention  to  a  composer 
unduly  underestimated  in  favor  of  more  "up-to-date" 
composers  of  fewer  years  and  lesser  talent.1    The  pub- 

i  Since  this  was  written,  several  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  mature  works,  as  the 
appended  list  of  his  compositions  shows,  have  been  published.  I  am  unable  to 
recommend  the  melodious  but  otherwise  uninteresting  "Friihlings-Einzug," 
Op.  42,  or  the,  at  least  in  my  opinion,  monotonous  chorus  "Trost  der  Nacht," 
Op.  48.  The  three  organ  fugues,  Op.  28,  are  full-blooded  and  scholarly  but  also 
somewhat  scholastic.  On  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  recommend  to 
brainy  violinists  the  Violin  sonata,  Op.  30,  the  one  work  of  Beer-Walbrunn's 
which  even  his  opponents  have  conceded  to  be  a  powerful  and  remarkable  addition 
to  sonata  literature. 

The  "Drei  Burlesken,"  Op.  40,  for  orchestra  will  always  suffer  from 
their  misleading  title.  The  music  is  not  at  all  burlesque  in  the  accepted 
sense  of  the  word.  Hence,  the  public  does  not  get  what  it  expects  and  is  disap- 
pointed unless  warned  beforehand.  I  suspect  that  the  composer  chose  the  mis- 
leading title  because  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  call  these  witty  pieces.  Witty 
in  a  strictly  musical  or  technical  sense,  for  one  has  to  study  the  score  with  its 
many  funny  contrapuntal  tricks  analytically  to  appreciate  how  "geistreich"  is 
Beer-Walbrunn's  lour  de  force,  his  jeu  d'esprit  in  showing  off  his  technique  of 
"thematic  unity."  When  I  asked  him  if  he  had  intended  to  slyly  satirize  or  to 
have  sport  with  the  professional  adherents  of  that  principle  of  composition, 
Beer-Walbrunn  merely  smiled  a  jovial  smile  and  then  pleaded  guilty  to  his  self- 
indictment.  As  for  the  orchestration,  the  pieces  have  a  flavor  of  individuality, 
refinement  and  subtlety  which  is  said  to  have  elicited  praise  even  from  Richard 
Strauss,  not  exactly  a  friend  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  music  otherwise. 

Of  the  unpublished,  later  works  the  one-act  opera  "Das  Ungeheuer"  (Karls- 
ruhe, 1914)  is  a  shining  illustration  of  how  a  composer  will  waste  a  lot  of  attractive 
ideas  on  an  impossible  book.  That  Beer-Walbrunn  ever  conceived  the  suicidal 
notion  to  compose  Tschechow's  for  operatic  purposes  impossible  dramatic  prose 
trifle,  is  a  mystery  to  me.  So  it  was  to  a  prominent  critic  who,  apparently  not 
familiar  with  Tschechow's  play,  accused  the  composer  of  having  altered  it  clum- 
sily beyond  recognition — though  Beer-Walbrunn  in  fact  set  the  play  to  music 
practically  word  for  word  I  With  his  incidental  music  for  Reinhardt's  production 
of  "Hamlet"  and  the  Munich  Kilnstlertheater  production  (1914)  of  "The  Tempest" 
Beer-Walbrunn  convincingly  proved  his  talent  for  just  such  delicate  tasks  which 
require  taste  and  tact. 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN 169 

lished  works  mostly  belong  to  his  earlier  period,  when 
he  had  not  yet  quite  found  himself,  or  are  below  Beer- 
Walbrunn's  own  normal  level.  To  the  latter  class  must 
be  reckoned  the  very  mediocre  "Reisebilder,"  Op.  21, 
for  pianoforte.  A  "Kleine  Phantasie"  for  violin  and 
pianoforte,  Op.  3,  is  pretty,  but  need  not  be  taken  very 
seriously.  The  same  is  true  of  an  Ode  for  'Cello,  Op. 
20.  The  'Cello  Sonata,  Op.  15,  has  a  beautiful  second 
movement,  but  otherwise  will  be  effective  in  the  home 
circle  rather  than  before  a  chamber-music  audience 
used  to  more  pretentious  things.  An  orchestral  "Deut- 
sche Suite,"  Op.  22,  of  which  a  four-hand  arrangement 
has  also  been  published,  has  proved  fairly  interesting 
and  attractive  as  entremet  between  musical  dishes  of 
heavier  conception.  The  six  "Einstimmige  Lieder," 
Op.  11,  published  separately  at  Count  Schack's  expense, 
and  the  six  "Lieder"  of  Op.  13,  published  in  two  groups, 
are  unequal  in  value  and  uneven  in  style.  Beer-Wal- 
brunn's  models,  especially  Schubert,  were  looking  over 
his  shoulders  when  he  penned  the  former  cycle,  and  it 
cannot  be  said  that  his  methods  of  song-composition 
were  then  always  above  severe  criticism.  This  is  a 
pity,  because  there  is  an  outburst  of  inspiration  in 
these  songs,  quite  beyond  ordinary  mortals.  What  an 
irresistible  hymnus  "Des  Knaben  Berglied"  would  be 
without  its  only  too  obvious  defects!  Paul  Moos  has 
called  "Allein  mit  der  Natur"  one  of  the  most  powerful 
of  German  songs.  I  agree  with  him,  but  think  that 
the  "Lied  der  Trauer"  is  fully  as  good.  Of  the  songs  in 
Op.  13  the  three  published  by  Peters,  "Bitte,"  "Traum- 
land"  and  "Triumphlied,"  are  eminently  characteristic 
of  Beer-Walbrunn's  methods  and  moods,  and  of  those 
subtle  shadings  that  surprisingly  often  escape  those 
uninitiated  in  his  style. 

This  last  remark  brings  me  to  his  third  String  Quartet, 
Op.  14,  and  the  Quartet  for  pianoforte  and  strings,  Op.  8. 
Except  for  a  tendency  towards  homophonic  treatment 


170 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

and  a  personal  note,  unmistakable  in  all  of  Beer-Wal- 
brunn's  music,  whether  good  or  poor,  influenced  by 
other  masters  or  not,  these  two  works  have  little  in 
common.  There  is  enough  life  and  sentiment  in  the 
String  Quartet  to  make  it  a  fairly  valuable  contribution 
to  chamber  music,  but  one  notices  throughout  a  certain 
restraint,  even  in  the  grinding  dissonances  of  the  first 
movement.  This  restraint  is  absent  from  the  Piano 
Quartet  with  which,  in  1892,  the  propaganda  for  Beer- 
Walbrunn  began,  though  his  champions  have  never 
denied  that  the  third  movement  is  Schumannesque, 
and  that  from  the  first  two  movements  the  egg-shells 
of  the  conservatory  have  not  been  wholly  removed. 
These  defects  aside,  I  know  of  no  other  work  so  typical 
of  the  unsophisticated  Bavarian  with  his  boisterous 
joviality,  his  intensely  deep  emotions,  his  robust  love 
of  sonority  and  of  the  volkstiimlich  beautiful,  all  frankly 
and  yet  gracefully  expressed.  Exactly  herein  lies  the 
difficulty  for  performers  who  are  not  in  sympathy  with 
this  type  of  Bavarian  or  do  not  understand  it.  They 
are  liable  to  mistake  the  recklessly  easy-going  frankness 
for  vulgarity,  and  indeed  I  have  known  good  musicians 
to  turn  Beer-Walbrunn's  Piano  Quartet  into  an  un- 
recognizable jumble  of  sounds  for  which  the  word 
vulgarity  was  still  too  select.  But  those  who  have 
heard  Bavarians  play  this  exuberant  work  of  their  soil 
with  the  true  Bavarian  touch  of  refinement  and  grace- 
fulness, know  how  it  has  electrified  and  deeply  moved 
Bavarian  audiences.  That  it  would  ever  strongly 
appeal,  let  us  say,  to  Frenchmen  or  even  Americans, 
I  sincerely  doubt. 

The  most  ambitious  work  of  Beer-Walbrunn's  "first 
period"  was  his  tragic  opera  in  two  acts,  "Siihne," 
composed  1893  for  the  Coburg  competition  and  since 
published  in  vocal  score.  Based  on  a  drama  by  Korner 
and  originally  called  "Liebe,"  the  opera  was  performed 
by  a  hopelessly  inadequate  cast  at  Liibeck  on  February 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN m 

16,  1894.  The  composer  withdrew  the  opera  rather 
than  hear  it  butchered  a  second  time.  The  one  per- 
formance, however,  had  suggested  improvements,  and 
so  he  immediately  subjected  the  work  to  a  revision 
and  reorchestration,  but  no  manager  has  since  mustered 
courage  to  give  the  opera  in  its  present  form  a  second 
trial.  Nor  is  this  difficult  to  understand.  Though 
"Suhne"  is  unquestionably  the  most  talented  German 
by-product  of  the  "Cavalleria  Rusticana"  episode,  serious 
objections  must  be  raised  against  it  from  every  aspect. 
The  book  was  too  clumsily  constructed  by  Beer-Wal- 
brunn  himself,  and  was  not  much  improved  by  his 
friend  Georg  Fuchs,  and  the  form  of  the  opera  is  too 
antediluvian,  that  is,  too  ante- Wagnerian.  If  then,  on 
the  whole,  the  work  does  not  commend  itself  nowadays 
for  performance,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  it  contains 
scenes  full  of  musical  beauty,  dramatic  power  and 
lapidaric  intensity  such  as  would  reflect  credit  on  any 
composer.  Barring  some  Wagnerian  reminiscences, 
more  noticeable  in  "Suhne"  than  in  other  recent  works, 
because  in  style  and  spirit  it  is  so  far  removed  from 
Wagner,  Beer-Walbrunn  has  sounded  his  personal  note 
from  beginning  to  end.  This  same  personal  note  re- 
appears in  all  his  later  works  whenever  he  rises  above 
his  average  level,  and  it  is  so  conspicuous  in  his  best 
published  work  and  one  of  the  best  he  will  ever  compose 
that  the  dullest  ear,  without  further  clue,  would  identify 
the  composer  of  "Siihne"  and  this  work.  I  mean  his 
"Cyklus  lyrisch-dramatischer  Gesange  nach  Shake- 
speare's Sonetten,"  Op.  34,  composed  and  first  sung  at 
Munich  in  1906.  These  ten  songs  have  been  condemned 
by  some  critics  for  the  naive  reason  that  the  composer 
dared  compose  Shakespeare's  sonnets  at  all,  because  in 
their  opinion  the  glorious  sonnets  do  not  lend  themselves 
to  musical  treatment.  Others  frankly  admitted  their 
inability  to  follow  Beer-Walbrunn ;  and  of  course  those 
who  never  did  care  for  him  have  not  been  won  over. 


172 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

However,  these  sonnets  made  such  a  profound  im- 
pression on  other  critics  of  standing  that  they  declared 
them  to  be  every  bit  as  good  as  anything  Hugo  Wolf 
ever  did.  I,  too,  am  firmly  convinced  that  this  song- 
cycle  belongs  to  the  landmarks  in  German  song-literature. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  living  composer  in  Germany  who 
could  have  penetrated  deeper,  with  simple  means,  into 
the  psychology  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets  and  given 
them  more  adequate  musical  expression.  Those  who 
cannot  get  around  the  "corner"  of  Beer-Walbrunn's 
style,  of  which  this  cycle  is  typical  without  flaws,  will 
surely  not  side  with  us;  but  to  those  whom  the  "corner" 
does  not  deter,  the  study  of  these  master-songs  will 
present  a  fascinating  and  thankful  task  of  interpre- 
tation. They  will  then  fully  understand  my  allusion 
to  Diirer,  and  will  agree  that  a  composer  of  Beer- 
Walbrunn's  unbending  individuality,  of  his  cerebral 
and  emotional  depth,  is  bound  to  make  his  way,  not 
towards  remunerative  popularity  perhaps,  but  towards 
the  circle  of  those  who  are  capable  of  welcoming  a 
master  from  whatever  direction  he  comes. 

Compositions  by  Anton  Beer-Walbrunn 
Op. 

1  Zwei  Chorlieder  (1889-90),  Munich,  A.  Schmid  Nchf.,   1897; 

Munich,  Wunderhorn  Verlag,  1912. 

2  Concert-Ouverture  (1890). 

3  Kleine  Phantasie  in  G  moll  for  violin  and  piano   (1891-94). 

Munich,  A.  Schmid  Nchf.,  1897;  Leipzig,  Peters,  1899. 

4  Streich-Quartett  in  C  dur  (1891). 

5  Symphonie  in  F  dur  (1891-92). 

6  Streich-Quartett,  No.  2,  in  C  moll  (1892). 

7  Der  Polenfliichtling,  Ballade  (first  version;  1892). 

8  Klavier-Quartett  in  F  dur  (1892),  Munich,  A.  Schmid  Nchf., 

1897;  Leipzig,  Peters,  1899. 

9  Concert- Allegro  fur  Klavier  (1892). 

10  Suhne.  Tragische  Oper  in  2  Akten  (1893),  Liibeck,  Feb.  16, 
1894;  Berlin,  Stern  und  Ollendorf,  1896;  Munich,  A.  Schmid 
Nchf.,  1897. 

II  Symphonische  Phantasie  (1894). 

12     (Sechs)  Einstimmige  Lieder  (1893),  Leipzig,  Breitkopf  &  Hartel. 
13a  Drei  Lieder  (1895),  Leipzig,  Peters,  1900. 
13b  Drei  Lieder  (1893-94),  Munich,  A.  Schmid  Nchf.,  1897. 
14     Streich-Quartett  No.  3,  G  dur  (1893-97),  Munich,  A.  Schmid 
Nchf.,  1897;  Leipzig,  Peters,  1899. 


ANTON  BEER-WALBRUNN  173 


15  Sonate  in  G  dur  fur  Violoncello  und  Klavier  (1895),  Munich, 

A.  Schmid  Nchf.,  1897. 

16  Mahomets  Gesang  von  Goethe  fur  Soli,  Chor,  Orchester,  Orgel 

(1895.    Nuremberg,  March  16,  1896). 

17  Klavier-Quintett  (1895,  1901). 

18  Don  Quijote,  der  sinnreiche  Junker  von  der  Mancha.     Musi- 

kalische  Tragikomodie  in  3  Aufziigen  (1896-1905),  Munich, 
January  1,  1908.     Munich,  Drei  Masken  Verlag,  1911. 

19  Streich-Quartett  No.  4,  E  moll  (1898). 

20  Ode  fur  Violoncello  und  Pianoforte  (1899),  Leipzig,  Peters,  1899. 

21  Reisebilder.     Cyclus  von   6   Klavierstucken    (1899),    Leipzig, 

Peters,  1900. 

22  Deutsche  Suite  fiir  grosses  Orchester  (1900).     Leipzig,  Peters, 

1901   (Score  and  4-hands  arrangement). 

23  Marsch,  Tanz  and  Fantasie  fiir  Orchester  (1900). 

24  Zwei  Lieder  (1900). 

25  Humoreske  fiir  Streich-Quartett  und  Klavier  (1901). 

26  Streich-Quartett  No.  5,  D  moll  (1901). 

27  Zwei  Lieder.   (No.  1,  "Mutter,  siisser  klingt  kein  Ton,"  Munich, 

A.  Schmid  Nchf.,  1901). 

28  Drei  Fugen  fiir  die  Orgel,  Leipzig,  Rob.  Forberg,  1906. 

29  Drei  kleine  Fugen  fiir  die  Orgel  (Nos.  1  and  2  in  O.  Gauss' 

collection,  "Orgel-Kompositionen  aus  alter  und  neuer  Zeit," 
Ratisbon,  A.  Coppenrath,  1909). 

30  Sonate  fiir  Violine  und  Klavier  (1905).    Munich,  Wunderhorn 

Verlag,  1911. 

31  Der  Polenfliichtling,  Ballade.  (Second,  orchestral  version,  1905). 

32  Sonate  fur  Orgel,  G  moll  (1906). 

33  Bearbeitung  von  6  Volinsonaten  von  Dall'Abaco  (1906)  (Denk- 

maler  d.  Tonkunst  in  Bayern,  ix,  1,  1908). 

34  Ein  Cyclus  lyrisch-dramatischer  Gesange  nach  Shakespeares 

Sonetten  (1906),  Munich,  Heinrich  Lewy,  1907. 

35  Zwei  Chore.     (No.  1,  "Heimweh,"  Munich,  Wunderhorn  Ver- 

lag, 1912;  No.  2,  "Vesperhymne"  in  Liederbuch  fiir  baye- 
rische  Gymnasien,  1906.) 

36  Sinfonie  in  E  dur  (1906). 

37  Vier  Lieder  von  A.  Droste-Hulshoff  (1906);  ("Letzte  Worte," 

said  to  have  been  published  by  Vobach,  Berlin). 

38  Gavotte  von  Schlemiiller  fiir  'Cello  und  Klavier,  bearbeitet  fiir 

Orchester  (1907). 

39  Zwei  Lieder  (1907).  (No.  2,  "Standchen,"  said  to  have  been 

published  by  Vobach,  Berlin  [1908].) 

40  Wolkenkuckucksheim    (1908),    Drei    Burlesken   fiir  Orchester, 

Munich,  Wunderhorn  Verlag,  1912. 

41  Revised  version  of  "Die  Siihne"  as  "Volksoper." 

42  No.  1.    Fruhlings-Einzug.    Tonstiick  fiir  Klavier  zu  2  Handen. 

Munich,  Wunderhorn  Verlag,  1910. 
No.  2.     4  Variationen  iiber  den  Choral,  "Wie  schon  leucht't 

uns  der  Morgenstern"  (1915). 
No.  3.    6  deutsche  Volkslieder  fiir  Geige  und  Klavier  in  leichter 

Bearbeitung  (1915). 

43  Biihnenmusik  zu  "Hamlet"  (Berlin,  1909). 

44  Bearbeitungen : 

No.  1.     Siziliano  von  W.  Fr.  Bach  fiir  Oboe,  Fagott  und 
Klavier  (1909).    Munich,  Wunderhorn  Verlag,  1910. 


174 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

No.  2.  Aria,  "Zerbrecht,  zerreisst,"  fur  Sopran,  Horn, 
Klavier  oder  Orgel  (1911).  Munich,  Wunderhorn  Ver- 
lag,  1912. 

45  Kleine  Stiicke  fur  Orgel  (1910). 

46  Bearbeitung  der  Violinsonate  in   H   dur  von  W.   Fr.    Bach. 

Munich,  Wunderhorn  Verlag,  1910. 

47  Bearbeitung  der  "Drei  Tochter  des  Cecrops,"  Oper  in  5  Akten 

von  Strungk  (1910,  for  the  Denkm.  d.  Tonkunst). 

48  Trost  der  Nacht,  fur  gemischten  Chor  (1911).    Munich,  Wun- 

derhorn Verlag,  1912. 

49  Bearbeitung  von  Teilen  zweier  alter  italienischer  Opern:  "An- 

tigona"  und  "Iphigenia"  (1912,  for  the  Denkm.  d.  Tonk.). 

50  Das  Ungeheuer.     Musikalisches  Lustspiel  in  einem  Akt  nach 

Tschechow  (1912-13).    Karlsruhe,  April  25,  1914. 

51  Bearbeitung  der  "Sofonisbe,"  Oper  in  3  Akten  von  Trajeta 

(1913,  for  the  Denkm.  d.  Tonk.,  published  1914). 

52  Konzertstuck  fur  Geige  und  Orchester  (1913-14). 

53  Mannerchore  nach  Moricke: 

No.  1.    Der  Maria  Geburt. 
No.  2.    Wanderlied. 

54  Schauspielmusik  zu  Shakespeares  "Sturm"  in  2  Akten.  (1914. 

Munich,  Kiinstlertheater,  1914.) 

55  Vaterlandische  Lieder  und  Chore  (1914). 

56  Drei  Stiicke  fur  Klavier  (1915). 

57  In  memoriam.    Adagio  in  Sonatenform  fur  Klavier  (1915). 

58  Fantasie-Sonate  in  Fis  moll  fiir  Klavier  (1915). 

59  Fiinf  geistliche  Lieder  mit  Klavierbegleitung  nach  Eichendorff 

(1915-16). 

60  Neue  Lieder  mit  Klavierbegleitung  nach  Eichendorff  (1916). 

In  addition,  a  considerable  number  of  early,  unpublished 
works  without  opus-number:  Songs,  choruses,  Pianoforte  music, 
a  Violin  sonata,  a  Symphony,   etc.,   etc. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW? 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW? 

(Proceedings  of  the  Music  Teachers'  National  Association  for  1911) 

Under  the  pseudonym  of  "K.  Freigedank"  Richard 
Wagner,  in  1850,  contributed  to  Brendel's  Neue  Zeit- 
schrift  ftir  Musik  the  famous  essay  "Das  Judenthum  in 
der  Musik."  With  an  antisemitism  truly  Saxonian  in 
its  ferocity,  he  deprecated  the  Jew's  influence  in  music. 
The  attack  was  promptly  and  quite  properly  resented 
by  the  Jews,  who  really  could  not  be  expected  to  swal- 
low such  an  insult  to  their  race.  Whatsoever  the  merits 
of  Wagner's  condemnation  of  Jewish  influence  in  music 
may  be,  he  did  not  reap  the  full  fruit  of  his  antisemitic 
art-philosophy  until  after  the  republication  of  the  essay 
with  additions  and  over  his  own  signature  in  1869. 
Therewith  he  exploded  a  bomb  which  had  been  lying 
half -buried,  and  for  years  he  remained  a  marked  man 
in  powerful  Jewish  journalistic  circles,  until  Wagner  the 
genius  triumphed  over  the  enemies  of  Wagner  the 
pamphleteer.  To-day  all  sensible  Jews  have  forgotten 
and  forgiven  what,  from  their  standpoint,  they  justly 
considered  an  unfair  and  ill-tempered  attack  on  the 
idealism  of  their  race;  but  the  animosity  against  the 
antisemite  Wagner  has  by  no  means  completely  died 
out  amongst  Jews. 

The  tables  could  not  possibly  be  turned  on  Wagner 
more  revengefully  than  by  proving  that  this  arch- 
antisemite  was  himself  a  Jew.  If  a  Jew,  then  naturally 
all  his  arguments  against  the  art-value  of  Jewish  in- 
fluences would  apply  to  his  own  influence  with  brutal 
force,  and  he  would  stand,  self-convicted,  an  undesirable 
citizen  in  the  realm  of  art,  unless  the  other  alternative 
be  accepted — a  complete  vindication  of  the  Jewish 
influence  in  music  by  the  Jewish  composer  Wagner 
against  the  antisemitic  theorist  Wagner. 

177 


178 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Exactly  here  enters  the  question,  "Was  Richard  Wag- 
ner a  Jew?"  It  has  been  going  the  rounds  for  many  a 
year,  and  more  than  once  an  affirmative  answer  has 
been  given.  To  make  such  an  assertion,  which  clearly 
involves  the  conjugal  fidelity  of  a  great  man's  mother, 
without  proof  is  certainly  objectionable.  A  mere  sys- 
tematic repetition  of  an  unproved  and  therefore  objection- 
able assertion  would  not,  of  course,  make  it  any  more 
acceptable  to  decent-minded  people,  Jews  or  Christians. 
If,  then,  for  instance,  the  Musical  Courier  of  late  consist- 
ently and  persistently  calls  Richard  Wagner  a  Jew,  we 
are  forced  to  the  assumption  that  the  editor  really 
believes  Wagner's  Jewish  origin  to  be  above  doubt. 
Just  to  what  lengths  some  persons  will  go,  cannot  be 
better  illustrated  than  by  the  article  "Inovowrazlov — 
the  Topography  of  Genius,"  by  one  Semmy  Carpeles  in 
the  Musical  Courier,  1911,  Vol.  63,  No.  6,  p.  14.  The 
writer  of  this  article  refers  to  Wagner's  origin  thus: 

Geyer,  the  father  of  Richard  Wagner,  no  doubt  changed  his 
name  from  the  Hebrew  Adler  to  Geyer,  because,  as  a  Jew,  he  could 
not  secure  an  engagement  at  that  time  on  any  German  stage. 
Fraulein  Jachmann,  who  was  the  mother  of  the  illegitimate  Richard, 
was  probably  not  a  Jewess;  had  she  been  a  Jewess,  Geyer  would 
have  married  her  and  Richard  would  have  been  born  regularly. 

One  stands  aghast  at  the  audacity  of  "Semmy  Carpeles" 
to  impose  such  raw  stuff  on  the  editor  of  the  Musical 
Courier,  and  blushes  with  shame  for  the  credulity  of 
Semmy  Carpeles  when  one  sees  him  nonchalantly  basing 
these  words  on  the  following  idiotic  tissue  of  inaccuracies 
and  untruths  in  a  communication  which  he  quotes  from 
the  New  York  Sun,  July  3,  1911: 

You  may  find  men  in  New  York  who  have  heard  Wagner  himself 
say  that  his  father  was  Geyer.  But  he  never  knew  him,  he  said. 
Geyer  was  an  actor  in  a  theatre  in  Leipsic,  together  with  Wagner's 
mother,  Fraulein  Jachmann.  They  were  never  married.  When 
Fraulein  Jachmann  married  Police  Actuary  Wagner,  he  adopted 
Richard;  so  he  changed  his  name  to  Richard  Wagner.  Many 
illegitimate  children  used,  formerly  at  least,  to  take  the  name  of 
their  father,  although  their  legal  name  would  have  been  that  of 
the  mother.    I  have  known  several  such  men.    So  Richard  Wagner's 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 179 

legal  name  would  have  been  not  Richard  Geyer,  but  Richard 
Jachmann,  if  not,  perhaps,  in  his  time,  children  adopted  generally 
the  father's  name.    Anyhow,  his  father  was  Geyer,  not  Wagner. 

Now,  it  is  not  a  daily  newspaper's  business  to  prevent 
anybody  from  making  an  ass  of  himself,  but  it  is  a 
sad  state  of  affairs  if  a  contributor  to  a  musical  newspaper 
falls  so  low  as  to  operate  with  such  a  disgusting  exudation 
of  ignorance  in  an  article  which  was  bound  to  be  read 
by  many  guileless,  because  historically  untrained,  musi- 
cians in  America. 

At  the  root  of  the  controversy  lie  these  simple  facts. 
Richard  Wagner  was  born  on  May  22,  1813.  On  Nov. 
22,  1813,  his  father,  Carl  Friedrich  Wilhelm  Wagner,  died, 
and  the  widow,  Johanna  Rosine  Wagner,  nee  Patz 
(Sept.  19,  1774),  on  Aug.  28,  1814,  married  Ludwig 
Geyer,  who  became  acquainted  with  the  two  in  1801. 

I  now  marshal  as  collateral  "facts"  the  arguments 
which  in  conversation  or  in  print  one  finds  advanced  in 
support  of  the  theory  of  Wagner's  Jewish  origin. 

(1)  Geyer  was  an  actor,  playwright,  portrait-painter, 
in  brief,  a  man  of  artistic  versatility,  whereas  Friedrich 
Wagner  was  a  Polizei-Amts-Actuarius  (Police  Actuary) ; 
(2)  Richard  was  not  entered  in  the  records  of  the 
Kreuzschule  at  Dresden  as  Richard  Wagner,  but  as 
Richard  Geyer;  (3)  At  "Wahnfried"  there  may  be  seen 
portraits  of  Wagner's  mother  and  Geyer,  but  pictures 
of  Wagner's  father  are  conspicuous  by  their  absence; 
(4)  Richard  Wagner  resembled  Geyer;  (5)  Richard 
Wagner  in  his  writings,  letters,  and  conversation 
repeatedly  referred  to  Geyer  as  "father  Geyer"  or  "our 
father  Geyer";  (6)  Geyer,  until  his  premature  death  on 
Sept.  30,  1821,  showed  a  very  marked  preference  for 
Richard;  (7)  Wagner  himself  repeatedly  expressed  the 
possibility  of  his  being  a  son  of  Geyer  and  not  of  Fried- 
rich Wagner;  (8)  Geyer  was  a  Jew. 

These  beads  of  inference  appear  to  be  strung  on  a 
rather  slender  thread.    Still,  they  have  compelled  recent 


180 SUUM   CUIQUE:   ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

biographers  to  take  notice  of  the  theory.  Even  pro- 
fessors of  musical  history  at  German  universities  to-day 
consider  it  their  duty  at  least  to  call  attention  to  the 
claim  of  Wagner's  descent  from  Geyer.  Of  course,  they 
do  so  in  a  purely  scientific  spirit,  not  in  a  spirit  of  racial 
revenge  or  slander,  and  to  my  knowledge  none  of  these 
methodically  trained  historians  identifies  Wagner  as  of 
the  Jewish  race.  However,  this  much  is  clear:  the 
Jewish  claim  collapses  pitifully  unless  it  be  proved 
beyond  a  reasonable  doubt,  first,  that  Richard  Wagner 
was  the  illegitimate  son  of  Geyer,  second,  that  Geyer 
was  a  Jew. 

It  would  be  strange  indeed  for  a  genius  like  Wagner 
to  have  been  born  of  parents  totally  indifferent  to  art. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  both  Wagner's  mother  (most 
assuredly  not  a  Jewess)  and  his  father  Friedrich  were 
very  fond  of  the  theatre.  Indeed,  his  father's  passion 
for  the  stage  and  stage-folk  was  such  that  he  neglected 
his  wife,  as  Wagner  tells  us  in  his  autobiography.  So 
successful  had  Friedrich  Wagner  been  as  an  amateur 
actor  that  he  reluctantly  took  up  the  legal  profession. 
It  was  he  who  induced  Geyer  to  decide  on  the  stage  as 
his  main  profession,  and  he  had  a  stage-career  in  mind 
for  several  of  his  children.  Of  these  nine  children — two 
of  them  dying  at  an  early  age — five  actually  devoted 
themselves  to  the  theatre  (Albert,  Luise,  Rosalie,  Clara, 
Richard),  and  of  these  at  least  the  oldest,  Albert  (whom 
we  all  know  as  a  singer  and  actor  at  Wiirzburg  and 
later  as  stage-manager  at  Berlin),  cannot  by  the  wildest 
stretch  of  a  morbid  imagination  be  connected  with 
Geyer,  since  he  was  born  in  1799.  Thus,  if  heredity  is 
brought  into  this  matter,  Geyer  is  not  needed  at  all  to 
explain  the  source  of  Wagner's  artistic  instincts,  some 
of  whose  forebears,  indeed,  on  the  father's  side,  were 
musicians. 

Upon  entering  the  Kreuzschule  at  Dresden  in  1822, 
Wagner  was  actually  inscribed  as  Richard  Geyer  and 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 181 

not  as  Richard  Wagner.  This  fact  was  well  known  to 
the  great  composer,  who  in  his  autobiography,  when 
speaking  of  Geyer,  had  this  to  say  on  the  subject  (I 
quote  from  the  authorized,  but  not  wholly  satisfactory 
translation) : 

This  excellent  man,  under  whose  care  our  family  moved  to 
Dresden  when  I  was  two  years  old,  and  by  whom  my  mother  had 
another  daughter,  Cecilia,  now  also  took  my  education  in  hand 
with  the  greatest  care  and  affection.  He  wished  to  adopt  me  al- 
together [the  authorized  translation  drops  here  the  words  'als 
eigenen  Sohn']  and  accordingly,  when  I  was  sent  to  my  first  school, 
he  gave  me  his  own  name,  so  that  till  the  age  of  fourteen  I  was 
known  to  my  Dresden  schoolfellows  as  Richard  Geyer;  and  it  was 
not  until  some  years  after  my  stepfather's  death,  and  on  my  family's 
return  to  Leipsic,  the  home  of  my  own  kith  and  kin,  that  I  resumed 
the  name  of  Wagner. 

This  he  did  at  the  latest  on  Jan.  21,  1828,  when 
he  was  inscribed  in  the  books  of  the  Nikolaischule  of 
Leipsic  as  "Wilhelm  Richard  Wagner,"  his  father  being 
entered  as  "verstorb.  Actuarius."  The  "first  school" 
Wagner  mentions  above  was  the  Kreuzschule  of  Dresden, 
in  the  records  of  which  he  actually  appears  as  "Wilhelm 
Richard  Geyer,  Sohn  des  verstorbenen  Hofschauspielers 
Geyer."  Both  records  appear  in  facsimile  in  the  most 
sumptuous  and  (for  his  early  years)  in  some  respects 
most  important  book,  "Richard  Wagner:  His  Life  and 
Works  from  1813  to  1834. — Compiled  from  original 
letters,  manuscript,  and  other  documents  by  the  Hon- 
ourable Mrs.  Burrell,  nee  Banks,  and  illustrated  with 
portraits  and  facsimiles,  1898." 1 

Students  of  this  unwieldy  volume  know  that  Mrs. 
Burrell  secured  in  some  manner  an  uncut  and  unbound 
copy  of  the  original,  privately  printed  edition  of  Wagner's 
"Mein  Leben,"  which  was  distributed  only  among  the 
most  intimate  and  confidential  friends  of  the  composer. 
Mrs.  Burrell  was  then  struck,  as  we  all  are,  now  that 

iThe  book  is  merely  the  torso  of  a  documentary  biography  contemplated 
by  Mrs.  Burrell,  who  died  in  1898.  The  volume  was  printed  in  one  hundred 
copies  only,  of  which  one  is  at  the  Library  of  Congress.  It  is  engraved  throughout 
on  specially  prepared  paper  with  Wagner's  name  as  watermark  and  so  profusely 
illustrated  that  the  cost  of  production  must  have  been  enormous. 


182 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

the  autobiography  has  become  public,  by  Wagner's 
statement  quoted  above.  She  investigated  the  matter, 
and  she  was  informed  by  leading  Saxon  ecclesiastics 
and  schoolmen,  among  them  the  director  of  the  school 
in  question,  whose  testimony  she  reproduces,  that  quite 
frequently  in  Saxon  schools  of  that  period  stepchildren 
were  registered,  for  purely  administrative  purposes,  not 
under  the  name  of  the  real  father,  but  under  that  of 
the  stepfather!  Hence,  such  an  entry  might  easily 
have  been  made  without  even  an  expressed  desire  on 
Geyer's  part  to  adopt  Richard  Wagner  as  his  own  son. 
Nor  is  it  at  all  necessary  to  infer  from  such  a  desire 
that  he  therewith  implied  Richard  to  be  really  his  son, 
since  many  a  stepfather  before  and  after  has  done  the 
same  thing  without  the  possibility  of  any  such  inferences. 
Finally,  if  any  argumentative  weight  is  attached  to 
the  entry  of  Richard  Wilhelm  Geyer  in  the  records  of 
the  Kreuzschule,  equal  weight  attaches  to  the  entry  of 
Richard  Wilhelm  Wagner  in  the  records  of  the  Niko- 
laischule  of  Leipsic.  In  other  words,  the  Kreuzschule 
entry  loses,  if  not  all  of  its  inferential  force,  at  least 
enough  to  effect  a  draw  in  the  contest  between  the 
rightful  names  Wagner  and  Geyer. 

Mrs.  Burrell's  book  plays  havoc  with  still  another  of 
the  singular  inferences  supporting  the  theory  of  Wagner's 
descent  from  Geyer.  It  is  the  picture-argument  based 
on  the  fact  that  from  the  end  of  1858  Wagner  gave  a 
place  of  prominence  and  honor  to  a  photograph  of  the 
Geyer  self-portrait  in  the  possession  of  the  Brockhaus 
family,  into  which  his  sister  Luise  had  married.  Wagner's 
first  words  in  the  matter  are  contained  in  a  letter  to 
his  sister  Cecilia  from  Venice,  Jan.  28,  1859  (see  the 
"Familienbriefe") :  "Father  Geyer's  picture  now  always 
lies  before  me  on  my  writing-desk." 

That  Wagner  later  adorned  his  home  "Wahnfried" 
at  Bayreuth  with  this  and  other  pictures  of  his-  step- 
father,  but  not  of  his  father,  may  set  those  thinking 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 183 

who  do  not  appreciate  the  psychological  consequences 
of  the  fact  that  Wagner  was  but  half  a  year  old  when 
his  father  died.  It  would  have  been  perfectly  natural 
under  the  circumstances  for  Wagner  to  give  to  a  portrait 
of  his  stepfather  a  place  of  even  greater  honor  than  to 
a  picture  of  his  father.  If  there  be  such  who  do  not 
concede  this,  then  we  may  ask,  How,  in  the  name  of 
common  sense,  Wagner  could  pay  the  proper  filial  respect 
to  a  picture  of  his  father,  if  no  such  picture  exists? 
Mrs.  Burrell's  patient  hunt  for  a  portrait  of  Friedrich 
Wagner  ended  with  the  information  given  her  by  Wag- 
ner's stepsister  Cecilia  that  the  family  knew  of  no  extant 
picture  of  Friedrich  Wagner,  and  that  she  remembered 
only  a  very  dusty,  old  pastel  which  must  be  long  since 
smudged  out. 

Of  course,  this  simple  explanation  of  a  so  frightfully 
suspicious  looking  circumstance  would  not  remove  the 
other  collateral  argument  that  Wagner  resembled 
Richard  Geyer.  Here,  again,  Mrs.  Burrell's  book 
plays  havoc  with  hasty  inferences.  Not  finding  a 
picture  of  Wagner's  father,  she  accomplished  the  next 
best  thing  and  found  a  bust  of  Richard's  uncle,  the 
aesthetician  and  playwright  Adolf  Wagner.  She  presents 
photographs  of  this  bust  in  three  different  positions, 
and  the  likeness  between  Richard  Wagner  and  his  uncle, 
particularly  the  mouth,  "so  extremely  like  Richard's," 
is  at  least  as  great  as  that  between  Geyer  and  Richard 
Wagner — which,  in  my  humble  opinion,  is  not  at  all 
pronounced.  Mrs.  Burrell,  in  order  further  to  clinch 
the  argument  against  "a  stupid  confusion,"  as  she  calls 
it  in  one  place,  submits  an  authentic  photograph  of 
Richard  Wagner's  oldest  brother  Albert,  born  in  1799, 
and  therefore  beyond*  reach  of  Geyer-inferences.  Cham- 
berlain, in  his  splendid  work  on  Wagner,  reproduces 
another  picture  of  Albert,  and  no  unbiased  person  can 
fail  to  observe  that  the  resemblance  between  the  brothers 
Albert  and  Richard  is  so  striking  as  to  be  beyond  denial. 


184 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Commenting  upon  the  fact  that  neither  brother  shows 
a  marked  likeness  to  their  mother,  Mrs.  Burrell  con- 
cludes: "These  facts  make  it  probable  that  both  eldest 
and  youngest  sons,  with  fourteen  years  between  them, 
took  after  their  father." 

This  striking  family  likeness  between  the  two  brothers 
on  one  hand,  and  between  them  and  their  uncle  Adolf 
on  the  other,  has  been  accepted  by  such  recent  Wagner 
biographers  as  Julius  Kapp  and  Max  Koch  as  sufficient 
evidence  against  the  soundness  of  the  Geyer  theory.  To 
save  the  situation,  Dr.  Edgar  Istel,  one  of  the  best 
younger  writers  on  music  in  Germany — a  Jew,  by  the 
way — in  a  review  of  Mrs.  Burrell's  scarce  book  in  Die 
Musik  (1910-11,  no.  4,  p.  210)  takes  refuge  behind  this 
theory : 

The  likeness  of  Richard  Wagner  to  his  uncle  Adolf  Wagner 
and  his  brother  Albert  would  be  no  proof  against  the  paternity 
of  Geyer  (no  picture  of  father  Wagner  being  extant),  since  it  is 
known  that  frequently  the  first  child  of  a  second  marriage  still 
resembles  the  first  husband;  as  if  the  nature  of  the  woman  had  to 
gradually  become  accustomed  to  producing  in  new  forms. 

If  the  champions  of  the  Geyer  theory  must  seek 
shelter  behind  such  disputed  biological  observations, 
they  might  just  as  well  surrender.  However,  admitting 
for  the  sake  of  argument  that  Istel's  remark  is  based  on 
sound  biological  facts,  what  would  it  help  him?  If  the 
Wagner  family  likeness  is  not  a  proof  of  Friedrich 
Wagner's  paternity,  it  most  assuredly,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  not  a  proof  of  Geyer's  paternity.  Since  the 
burden  of  proof  in  the  whole  matter  rests  absolutely 
on  the  Geyer  champions,  they  are  in  any  event  debarred 
from  using  the  likeness  of  Richard  Wagner  to  Geyer  as 
an  effective  argument. 

So  far,  then,  all  the  "inferences"  have  been  shown  to 
lack  solid  substance  or  even  circumstantial  evidence,  and 
the  critic  of  the  claim  of  Wagner's  descent  from  Geyer 
has  had  plain  sailing.  His  task  becomes  more  compli- 
cated as  soon  as  he  reaches  the  strongest  argument  of 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 185 

his  opponents,  namely,  the  fact  that  Wagner  himself  is 
known  to  have  admitted  the  possibility  of  his  descent 
from  Geyer.  But  immediately  the  question  arises,  To 
whom  did  he  say  this,  when,  and  in  what  manner  or 
form? 
Glasenapp  (1905,  4th  ed.,  1st  vol.,  p.  78)  writes: 

That  the  deceased  [i.  e.,  his  stepfather  Geyer]  might  even  have 
been  his  real  father,  this  idea  he  has  repeatedly  expressed  as  a 
possibility  in  conversation  with  intimate  friends,  of  whom  we  could 
name  several. 

Notice  how  carefully  this  is  worded,  "as  a  possibility," 
and  "in  conversation  with  intimate  friends."  Suffice  it 
to  say  that  any  statement,  wherever  found,  that  Wagner 
positively  called  Geyer  his  real  father  is  a  fabrication. 
That  there  are  living,  for  instance,  in  New  York,  as 
claimed  in  the  New  York  Sun  of  July  3,  1911,  men  who 
heard  Wagner  himself  say  that  Geyer  was  his  real 
father,  is,  to  put  it  mildly,  improbable.  In  all  fairness, 
we  demand  affidavits  of  these  residents  of  New  York 
who  were  on  such  terms  of  intimacy  with  Wagner  that 
he  could  entrust  them  with  such  a  delicate  secret  and 
confession. 

At  Munich,  the  story  goes  that  Peter  Cornelius  was 
one  of  the  intimate  friends  to  whom  Wagner  hinted  at 
the  possibility  of  his  descent  from  Geyer,  but  Cornelius 
seems  to  have  avoided  any  reference  to  such  a  conver- 
sation in  his  writings.  Nietzsche  acted  differently,  and 
it  is  primarily  due  to  a  seductive  phrase  of  his  that  the 
story  of  Wagner's  illegitimate  (and  incidentally)  Jewish 
origin  gained  such  circulation,  first  in  Germany  and 
then  in  other  countries.  Said  Nietzsche  in  1888,  in  a 
foot-note  to  the  postscript  to  "The  Case  of  Wagner," 
that  famous  vitriolic  and  regrettable  attack  on  his 
former  idol: 

Was  Wagner  German  at  all?  We  have  some  reason  for  asking 
this.  It  is  difficult  to  discover  in  him  any  German  trait  whatsoever. 
Being  a  great  learner,  he  has  learned  to  imitate  much  that  is  Ger- 
man— that  is  all.    His  character  itself  is  in  opposition  to  what  has 


186 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

hitherto  been  regarded  as  German — not  to  speak  of  the  German 
musician!  His  father  was  a  stage-player  named  Geyer.  A  Geyer 
is  almost  an  Adler. 

It  is  this  phrase  which  to  my  own  knowledge  went  the 
rounds  of  all  cafes  where  literary  and  artistic  people 
meet  in  Germany,  and  it  has  remained  with  us  in  the 
most  twisted  forms,  one  being,  that  Geyer's  name  was 
not  Geyer  at  all  but  Adler — the  veriest  nonsense,  of 
course,  but  exceedingly  convenient  for  certain  purposes. 

Nietzsche,  bent  on  denying  to  Wagner  all  dramatic 
genius,  and  seeing  in  him  (in  1888)  a  mere  actor,  a 
wizard,  one  might  almost  say  a  charlatan,  of  stage- 
craft, continues: 

What  has  hitherto  been  put  in  circulation  as  the  "Life  of  Wagner" 
is  fable  convenue,  if  not  worse.  I  confess  my  distrust  of  every  point 
which  rests  solely  on  the  testimony  of  Wagner  himself. 

Very  well,  then,  let  us  draw  the  conclusions  of  this 
distrust.  After  the  death  of  her  second  husband, 
Wagner's  mother  remained  the  only  person  who  could 
possibly  have  given  binding  testimony  on  the  paternal 
parentage  of  her  son  Richard.  Now,  Glasenapp,  whose 
devotion  to  Wagner  is  such  that  his  critical  enemies 
would  not  be  surprised  at  Glasenapp's  acceptance  even 
of  a  Chinese  origin  of  Wagner,  and  his  discovery  of  the 
Lord's  reasons  therefor  in  the  interest  of  the  Germanic 
Gesamtkunstwerk,  if  Wagner  himself  had  implicitly  be- 
lieved in  such  a  Chinese  origin,  ends  his  delicately 
brief  discussion  of  the  problem  thus: 

And  yet,  if  a  secret  was  to  be  preserved  here,  then  his  mother 
took  it  with  her  into  her  grave  and  has  never  confided  it  either  to 
him  [Richard  Wagner]  or  any  of  the  grown  children. 

At  any  rate,  she  did  not  confide  such  a  secret  to 

Wagner,    for  otherwise   he   could   never   have  written 

what  he  wrote  to  his  sister  Cecilia  on  Jan.  14,   1870, 

from   Triebschen   after    the    receipt   of   transcripts    of 

letters  written  by  Geyer: 

The  contents  of  these  letters  has  not  only  moved  me,  but  verily 
shaken  me  to  the  depths.     The  example  of  complete  self-sacrifice 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW?  187 


for  a  noble  purpose  in  private  life  has  hardly  ever  presented  itself 
so  clearly  as  in  this  case.  .  .  .  Especially  the  delicate,  fine,  and 
highly  cultured  tone  of  these  letters,  particularly  of  those  to  our 
mother,  moves  me.  ...  At  the  same  timet  it  was  possible  for  me 
to  gain  a  deep  insight  out  of  these  letters  to  Mother  into  the  relations 
of  the  two  in  difficult  times.  I  believe  I  see  now  with  absolute 
clearness,  though  I  must  consider  it  extremely  difficult  to  express 
myself  on  these  relations,  as  I  see  them.  It  impresses  me,  as  if  our 
father  Geyer,  with  his  self-sacrifice  for  the  whole  family,  believed 
to  atone  for  a  guilt  (eine  Schuld  zu  verbiissen). 


The  letter  has  become  accessible  since  1907  through 
the  publication  of  the  "Familienbriefe  von  Richard 
Wagner  1832-1874."  It  is  to  my  knowledge  the  only- 
instance  that  Wagner  in  his  writings  ever  permitted 
himself  to  use  words  concerning  the  relations  between 
Geyer  and  his  mother  which  might  be  construed  by 
others  to  mean  that  he  had  conclusive  doubts  as  to  his 
paternal  parentage.  These  doubts  he  would  seem  to 
have  entertained  even  before  reading  those  letters  on 
Christmas  Day,  1869,  for  the  first  time.  Wagner  does 
not  specify  the  dates  or  the  contents  of  the  letters. 
It  is  therefore  impossible  to  say  whether  or  not  these 
letters  were  in  part  identical  with  those  from  Geyer  to 
Wagner's  mother  that  are  available  in  print.  Until 
Geyer's  letters  are  given  to  the  public,  it  is  equally 
impossible  to  know  whether  or  not  Wagner  really  could 
have  hinted  at  a  clandestine  love-affair  between  Geyer 
and  his  mother,  of  which  he  was  the  fruit,  previous  to 
their  marriage.  Possibly  his  words  have  a  hidden 
meaning  quite  different  from  the  now  current  interpre- 
tation, but  let  us  accept,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  as 
probable  that  he  really  desired  to  convey  to  his  step- 
sister that  interpretation  and  no  other.  Who  can  say 
that  this  interpretation  would  be  acceptable  to  other 
readers  of  the  same  letters?  Is  it  not  possible  that 
Wagner,  for  real  or  fancied  reasons,  having  had  previous 
doubts  as  to  his  origin,  too  willingly  and  too  hastily 
saw  in  these  letters  a  corroboration  of  his  doubts,  and 
that  other,   more  unbiased   readers,   would  decline  to 


188 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

share  his  views?  Nor  will  a  cautious  historian  stop 
here.  He  will  demand  proof  that  Wagner  continued  to 
put  the  above — at  best,  probable — construction  on  the 
letters.  How  if  Wagner  in  later  years  relinquished  his 
first  interpretation?  How  if  it  should  turn  out  that 
this  first  interpretation  was  but  temporary  and  not 
permanent  with  him?  Would  not  then  Wagner's  sup- 
posedly implied  testimony  have  lost  most  of,  if  not  all, 
its  force? 

In  this  connection,  I  think,  the  facsimile  in  Mrs. 
Burrell's  book  of  a  letter  written  by  Wagner  to  Friedrich 
Feustel  of  Bayreuth  on  Oct.  23,  1872,  should  not  be 
overlooked.  Feustel  had  asked  for  Wagner's  baptismal 
record.  Wagner  sent  it  with  a  humorously-worded 
note,  and  signed  it,  "Richard  Wagner,  Polizeiamts- 
Actuarius-Sohn."  Now,  what  I  mean  is  this.  If,  in 
1872,  Wagner  still  adhered  to  his  original  (by  some, 
implied)  interpretation  of  Geyer's  letters,  would  it  not 
be  rather  queer  that  he,  even  in  jest,  should  sign  himself 
deliberately  in  this  way,  after  hinting  in  conversation 
with  intimate  friends, — who,  it  appears,  repeated  the 
conversation  to  their  intimate  friends,  etc. — at  the  pos- 
sibility of  his  descent  from  Geyer?  Would  not  ninety- 
nine  out  of  a  hundred  men,  under  the  circumstances, 
have  simply  signed  "Richard  Wagner,"  and  avoided 
any  allusion  to  the  matter  of  paternity? 

In  other  words,  Wagner's  letter  to  his  sister  Cecilia 
opens  up  a  line  of  questions  to  which  neither  one  side 
nor  the  other  has  as  yet  attempted  to  give  answers 
satisfactory  to  those  who  see  in  history  something 
more  serious  than  the  record  of  sensational  gossip, 
vindictive  slander,  or  personal  impressions.  Again,  if 
it  is  important  to  know  whether  or  not  Wagner  until 
his  death  entertained  doubts  about  his  origin,  it  is 
equally  important  to  know  when  he  first  expressed 
such  doubts  to  intimate  friends.  Important,  for  this 
reason.      Should    no    authenticated    date    previous    to 


WAS  RICHARD   WAGNER  A   JEW? 189 

January,  1870,  be  established,  the  surmise  would  become 
plausible  that  Wagner  made  such  a  confession  only  after 
the  study  of  Geyer's  letters  to  his  mother  on  Christmas 
Day,  1869.  Therewith  we  should  be  led  back  in  a  circle 
to  the  same  line  of  questions  as  just  pointed  out,  and 
Wagner's  own  inferences  would  not  have  helped  us 
much  towards  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem. 
And  here  enters  his  much  abused  "Autobiography," 
recently  published.1 

The  first  volume  went  to  press  about  June  17,  1870. 
Consequently,  Wagner  had  ample  time  between  January, 
1870,  and  June,  1870,  to  embody  in  the  manuscript 
by  way  of  corrections  any  and  all  conclusions  or  in- 
ferences drawn  from  his  study  of  Geyer's  letters  or 
other  matter,  documentary  or  not,  which  would  throw 
additional  light  on  his  origin.  His  autobiography  pulls 
early  skeletons  out  of  their  closets  with  an  unreserve 
which  is  shocking  to  Anglo-Saxons,  and  to  people  who 
despise  Wagner  the  man,  since  they  can  no  longer 
afford  to  hate  Wagner  the  artist.  If  Wagner  was  a 
creature  of  such  low  character,  of  such  caddishness,  as 
some  critics  picture  him,  he,  presumably,  would  not 
have  hesitated  to  parade  the  skeleton  of  his  illegiti- 
macy by  inserting  words  wrought  with  unmistakable 
meaning.  On  the  other  hand,  if  Wagner  strictly  adhered 
to  his  object,  as  he  says  in  the  prefatory  note,  to  give 
"the  unadorned  truth,"  then  again  he  would  not  have 

i  This  was  struck  off  originally  in  about  eighteen  copies  for  Wagner's  most 
intimate  friends.  This  was  well  known,  but  just  when  it  was  written,  and  when 
it  was  printed,  perhaps  not  even  the  recipients  of  these  strictly  confidential  copies 
fully  knew.  Mrs.  Burrell  did  not  belong  to  these  friends.  Nevertheless,  she 
succeeded  in  procuring  a  copy,  and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  express  her  indignation 
at  this  "unmentionable  book"  when  reproducing  part  of  it  in  facsimile  in  her 
work  on  Wagner.  She  furthermore  proves  from  marginal  dates  in  her  copy  and 
by  letters  from  Wagner  to  G.  A.  Bonfantini  of  Basle,  who  printed  the  limited 
original  edition  of  "Mein  Leben,"  that  the  autobiography  was  dictated  from 
1865  to  1869,  and  that  the  first  volume  was  printed  from  about  June  17,  1870, 
to  June  29,  1874.  We  also  know  from  Wagner's  letter  to  his  sister  Luise,  dated 
Geneva,  January  3,  1866,  that  he  was  just  then  busy  dictating  his  autobiography, 
and  that  he  had  arrived  at  his  twenty-first  birthday  in  the  narraUve.  Finally, 
a  comparison  of  the  extracts  in  Burrell's  book  with  the  corresponding  parts  in 
the  German  version  of  "My  Life"  must  lead  to  an  acceptance  of  Siegfried  Wagner's 
reported  word  as  a  gentleman  that  the  original  version  has  not  been  doctored, 
and  that  all  irresponsible  suspicions  to  the  contrary  should  be  discounted  until 
somebody  proves  >uch  a  surgical  operation  by  a  page-by-page  comparison  of  the 
original  private  and  the  recent  public  edition. 


190 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

hesitated  to  rewrite  those  portions  of  his  autobiography 
which  refer  to  his  origin  in  accordance  with  his  remarks 
to  his  sister  Cecilia — that  is,  to  repeat  it,  provided  these 
remarks  really  have  that  meaning  and  no  other!  The 
autobiography,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  contains  no  statement 
which  would  compel  us  to  see  in  it  a  corroboration  of  the 
Geyer  theory. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  autobiography,  he  speaks 
of  "my  father  Friedrich  Wagner"  and  repeats  the  use  of 
"my  father"  as  applied  to  Friedrich  Wagner  repeatedly. 
As  to  Geyer,  Wagner  now  speaks  of  him  as  "my  step- 
father," and  again  as  "my  father,"  there  being  no  con- 
sistent differentiation  between  his  father  Friedrich 
Wagner  and  his  stepfather  Geyer  in  this  respect,  though 
on  p.  15  (of  the  German  version)  the  word  "Wagner," 
which  he  put  in  parenthesis,  may  have  a  pointed  though 
latent  meaning: 

After  one  year  [following  the  death  of  Geyer]  I  was  taken  .  .  . 
to  Leipsic,  where  I  was  delivered  for  a  few  days  into  the  care  of 
the  relatives  of  my  father  (Wagner). 

Writing  of  Geyer,  the  most  incriminating  passage  in 
the  autobiography  is  this  (p.  2,  English  translation) : 

Even  when  the  police  official  [Friedrich  Wagner]  was  spending 
his  evenings  at  the  theatre,  the  worthy  actor  generally  filled  his 
place  in  the  family  circle,  and  it  seems  had  frequently  to  appease 
my  mother,  who,  rightly  or  wrongly,  complained  of  the  frivolity 
of  her  husband.1  How  deeply  the  homeless  (heimathlos)  artist, 
hard  pressed  by  life  and  tossed  to  and  fro,  longed  to  feel  himself 
at  home  in  a  sympathetic  family  circle,  was  proved  by  the  fact 
that  a  year  after  his  friend's  death  he  married  his  widow,  and  from 
that  time  forward  became  a  most  loving  father  to  the  seven  children 
that  had  been  left  behind.    ... 

Of  his  mother  he  says  (p.  1 1  of  the  English  translation) : 

Her  chief  characteristics  seem  to  have  been  a  keen  sense  of 
humor  and  an  amiable  temper,  so  we  need  not  suppose  that  it 
was  merely  a  sense  of  duty  towards  the  family  of  a  departed  comrade 
that  afterwards  induced  the  admirable  Ludwig  Geyer  to  enter  into 

1  In  this  translation,  the  word  "frivolity"  is  not  an  equivalent  of  the  German 
"Flatterhaftigkeit,"  which  implies,  or  any  rate  may  imply,  something  worse 
than  frivolity,  namely,  infidelity. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 191 

matrimony  with  her  when  she  was  no  longer  youthful,  but  rather 
that  he  was  impelled  to  that  step  by  a  sincere  and  warm  regard 
for  the  widow  of  his  friend. 

It  would  be  jumping  at  dangerous  conclusions  if  we 
were  to  interpret  Wagner's  remark  about  the  neglect 
of  his  mother  by  his  father  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
deduce  therefrom  a  neglect  which  would  have  made  it 
physically  impossible  for  Friedrich  Wagner  to  have 
been  the  father  of  Richard.  On  the  other  hand,  Ludwig 
Geyer  would  not  be  the  first,  nor  the  last,  man  to  thus 
take  a  husband's  place  in  the  family  circle  without 
committing  adultery.  The  world  is  not  yet  so  rotten 
that  there  cannot  exist  daily  and  intimate  intercourse 
between  man  and  woman,  affectionate  and  intimate 
friendship  of  a  Platonic  kind.  It  is  not  for  us  to  prove 
that  the  intercourse  between  this  pair  was  Platonic,  it 
is  for  the  other  side  to  prove,  beyond  a  reasonable 
doubt,  that  the  intercourse  was  not  Platonic. 

As  to  Wagner's  calling  Geyer  in  his  autobiography,  in 
his  letters,  and  elsewhere  "father,"  "our  father,"  even 
"my  father,"  it  was,  as  it  is  to-day  in  thousands  of 
similar  cases,  the  most  natural  appellation.  Why,  then, 
should  just  Wagner  be  expected  to  have  called  Geyer 
consistently  "stepfather"?  At  any  rate,  it  was  at  least 
as  natural  for  him  to  call  his  stepfather  simply  father,  as 
it  was  for  Geyer  to  address  Richard's  brother  Albert 
(born  in  1799)  in  a  letter  of  Sept.  14,  1821,  as  "Mein 
Sohn,"  or  to  sign  himself  in  that  of  Sept.  13,  1820,  as 
"Dein  redlicher  Vater  L.  Geyer,"  or  in  that  of  June  5, 
1821,  as  "Dein  liebevoller  Vater"  (all  these  in  Mrs. 
Burrell's  book).  And  to  draw  any  inference  from  the 
fact  that  the  "Cossack"  Richard,  as  Geyer  sometimes 
called  him,  was  the  pet  of  both  his  mother  and  his 
stepfather  would  be  equally  silly,  vicious,  and  prepos- 
terous. It  would  have  been  unnatural  not  to  watch 
the  progress  of  the  youngest  boy,  a  delicate  and  sickly, 
yet  lively  and  almost  wild  child  of  such  peculiar  whims 


192 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

and  propensities  as  Richard,  with  particular  care  and 
affection.  Especially,  as  Richard  was  to  both  of  them 
more  or  less  a  mystery,  a  boy,  during  Geyer's  lifetime, 
of  no  clearly  outlined  talents.  Characteristic  in  this 
connection,  after  Richard  had  failed  to  show  more  than 
normal  talent  for  the  fine  arts,  is  Geyer's  often  quoted 
death -bed  utterance,  pathetic  in  its  hopeful  doubt: 
"Sollte  er  vielleicht  Talent  zur  Musik  haben?"  ("Does 
he  perhaps  have  talent  for  music?")  Nor  can  I  really 
find  that  Geyer's  preference  for  Richard  was  such  as 
to  overshadow  his  affection  for  the  other  children. 
Albert,  on  account  of  age  and  difference  of  character, 
should  have  been  the  least  acceptable  to  Geyer,  and 
yet  his  letters  to  Albert  breathe  a  tender,  fatherly 
spirit  than  which  that  of  his  real  father  could  not  have 
been  more  tender  and  fatherly. 

The  originals  of  the  letters  from  Geyer  to  Frau 
Wagner  on  which  Richard  Wagner  commented  to  his 
sister  Cecilia  are  not  preserved  at  "Wahnfried,"  but  in 
the  archives  of  the  Avenarius  -family  into  which  Cecilia 
had  married.  Now,  Glasenapp  in  his  preface  of  1904 
explicitly  thanks  the  "House  Wahnfried,  whose  archive- 
treasures  at  all  times  stood  at  my  [his]  disposal  without 
reservation,"  and  he  pays  the  same  tribute  of  thanks  to 
Ferdinand  Avenarius.  Glasenapp's  second  chapter 
shows,  as  comparison  with  Geyer's  letters  quoted  by 
Mrs.  Burrell  proves,  that  he  must  have  had  access  to 
the  letters  written  by  Geyer  to  the  widow  Wagner,  in 
other  words,  letters  read  also  by  Wagner  on  Christmas 
Day,  1869,  and  now  preserved  in  transcript  at  Wahnfried. 
Glasenapp,  moreover,  quotes  the  letter  written  by 
Wagner  to  Cecilia.  Yet  Glasenapp,  beyond  reference 
to  Wagner's  confidential  hints  to  intimate  friends  of  a 
possibility  of  his  descent  from  Geyer,  and  beyond  the 
statement  that  Wagner's  mother  carried  the  secret,  if 
there  was  any  such  secret,  un revealed  to  her  grave, 
does  not  give  his  own  interpretation  of  these   letters. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 193 

As  if  stunned  by  Wagner's  comment,  he  clings  to  his 
idol's  word  "Schuld"  (guilt),  and  asks  in  desperation: 

Guilt?  What  guilt?  The  guilt  of  having  given  to  the  world  a 
Richard  Wagner?  We  do  not  proceed  in  our  surmise  ("Vermutun- 
gen")  farther  than  do  the  words  in  this  letter. 

Clearly,  either  Glasenapp  from  his  reading  of  the 
letters  failed  to  understand  why  Wagner  should  put 
exactly  that  interpretation  on  those  letters,  and  was 
baffled,  just  as  much  as  we  are,  by  the  meaning  of 
Wagner's  words,  or  else  Wagner  had  letters  before  him 
not  submitted  to  Glasenapp  and  which  were  more  clearly 
amenable  to  such  an  interpretation,  if  that  was  really 
Wagner's  hidden  inference,  and  a  correct  one  at  that: 

Let  us  suppose  that  the  latter  alternative  must  be 

preferred,    though   in   my  opinion   that   is   not   at   all 

necessary.    A  dilemma  of  an  extraordinary  nature  then 

presents  itself.     Mrs.  Burrell,  who  also  had  access  to 

the  Avenarius  archives — to  forestall  confusion  I  interject 

the  remark  that  Mrs.  Burrell  does  not  occupy  herself 

with  the  theme  of  my  address  at  all — quotes  in  her 

book  four  letters  written  by  Geyer  from  Dresden  to 

the  widow  Wagner  at  the  time  he  came  to  the  rescue 

of  the  family  and  before  his  marriage  to  the  widow. 

The  first,  dated  Dec.  22,   1813,  and  mainly  reporting 

on  the  health  of  the  children  now  under  his  personal 

care,  begins: 

Friend:  Heartfelt  thanks  for  your  kind  letter,  which  drew  me 
out  of  a  very  uncomfortable  mood  and  gave  me  new  strength, 
since  I  found  you  more  composed  and  with  fortitude  resigned  to 
fate,  which  surely  will  treat  you  with  loving  consideration. 

The  second,  dated  Jan.  14,  1814,  begins: 

Dear  friend:  From  the  depths  of  my  heart  I  thank  Heaven  for 
the  reconvalescence  of  Albert  and  for  the  return  of  quietude  into 
your  heart  with  these  glad  tidings.  Poor,  good  woman!  Heaven 
has  made  of  you  such  a  sufferer,  but  has  given  you  also  the  strength 
to  bear  your  misfortunes,  and  your  joy  over  the  Lord's  fulfilment 
of  your  prayers  for  the  preservation  of  Albert's  life,  must  be  truly 
strengthening  and  elevating.  .  .  May  the  Lord  protect  you! 
To  all  friends  and  to  my  Albert  Gruss  und  Kuss  from  your  for  ever 
faithful  friend  Geyer. 


194 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

The  third  letter,  dated  January  28,  1814,  reads  in 
part: 

Beloved  friend:  .  .  .  You  have  promised  me,  to  be  in  future 
very  good,  brave,  and  full  of  confidence  towards  me,  and  I  hope 
that  my  good  and  very  dear  [herzensliebe]  friend  will  keep  her  word. 
Perhaps  I  may  seem  to  you  to  have  somewhat  changed,  but,  by 
the  Lord,  I  am  a  better  man  and  I  hope  for  an  opportunity  to  prove 
it  to  you.  Heaven  just  at  present  means  well  with  me,  having 
given  me  the  beautiful  mission  to  be  your  friend;  and,  by  keeping 
this  goal  steadily  in  view,  I  now  find  myself  rewarded  in  my  art, 
which  I  cultivate  with  strictest  care  and  with  remarkable  progress, 
as  my  Madonna  [he  refers  to  one  of  his  best  pictures]  will  bear 
testimony.  If  my  art  favors  me  so,  will  it  ever  be  possible  for 
you,  who,  together  with  my  art,  are  the  only  joys  [Freuden]  of  my 
life,  to  stop  being  my  friend?  But  my  demands  on  both  are  pro- 
bably too  great  that  I  may  ever  flatter  myself  of  reaching  the 
goal  of  my  wishes!    ...    In  eternity  yours,  Geyer. 

The  fourth  letter,  dated  Feb  11,  1814,  begins: 

Beloved  friend:  My  anxiety  for  you  had  reached  a  high  degree 
when  I  at  last  received  your  letter,  and  saw  that  you  are  well  and 
also  now  and  then  think  of  me  with  your  good  wishes.  Though 
under  the  present  sad  circumstances  you  will  have  little  pleasure 
in  Dresden,  you  must  not  forget  that  it  would  afford  us,  and  par- 
ticularly me,  great  joy  to  see  you  again  after  all  this  sorrowful 
suffering  and  to  press  you  to  our  hearts.  .  .  .  Unchangingly  [un- 
wandelbar]  yours,  Geyer. 

These  translations  lay  no  claim  to  merit  of  style,  but 
they  are  fairly  literal.  Yet,  one  important  point  dis- 
appears entirely  in  the  translation:  Geyer  throughout 
addresses  the  widow  with  the  formal  "Sie,"  not  with 
the  intimate  "Du."  The  tone  of  these  letters  is  one  of 
deep  sympathy,  refinement,  sincere  affection,  intimate 
friendship,  chaste  and  knightly.  But  why  proceed? 
In  the  name  of  common  sense,  I  ask,  are  these  letters 
in  address,  signature,  form,  contents  and  tone  the 
utterances  of  a  man  who  has  possessed  a  woman,  soul 
and  body,  for  several  years?  Such  an  opinion  would 
be  possible  only  on  the  rather  far-fetched  assumption 
that  Geyer  was  cleverly  and  deliberately  concealing 
the  real  state  of  affairs.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
parties  to  a  clandestine  love-affair  would  go  to  that 
unnecessary  trouble  in  confidential  letters  after  the  death 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW? 195 

of  the  husband.  But,  supposing  this,  for  a  moment, 
to  be  true,  what  would  follow?  That  Richard  Wagner 
must  have  seen  less  harmless  and  more  incriminating 
letters  which  compelled  him  to  infer,  what  we,  if  we 
are  so  inclined,  may  in  turn  infer  from  his  letter  to 
his  sister  Cecilia.  These  really  incriminating  letters 
would  have  been  written  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
husband,  that  is,  when,  as  surmised  above  for  the  sake 
of  argument,  such  extreme  caution  and  concealment  of 
the  real  status  of  affairs  would  actually  have  been 
necessary!  Few  will  be  willing  to  follow  anybody  into 
such  an  abyss  of  absurdity  as  that  into  which  the 
dilemma  would  then  force  us.  Most  of  us,  I  trust, 
will  refuse  to  believe  that  the  Avenarius  archives  contain 
two  such  diametrically  opposed  kinds  of  letters.  But 
this  forces  us  immediately  to  a  further  conclusion, 
namely,  that  Wagner  had  only  such  letters  as  quoted 
above  before  him,  perhaps,  indeed,  these  four  letters 
only  and  no  others.  If  that  be  the  case,  and  unless  the 
Avenarius  archives  have  been  tampered  with,  then  two 
conclusions  are  inevitable.  Either  Wagner  was  not 
justified  in  drawing  from  these  letters  the  inference  of 
an  illicit  love-affair  between  his  mother  and  Geyer  of 
which  he  was  the  offspring,  or  we  are  not  justified  in 
reading  this  inference  into  his  letter  to  his  sister  Cecilia. 
Confronted  by  this  dilemma,  it  may  be  profitable  to 
read  his  words  again: 

At  the  same  time  it  was  possible  for  me,  to  gain  exactly  from 
these  letters  to  Mother  a  sharp  insight  into  the  relations  of  the 
two  in  difficult  times.  I  believe  now  I  see  with  absolute  clearness, 
though  I  must  consider  it  extremely  difficult  to  express  myself  on 
my  view  of  these  relations.  It  impresses  me,  as  if  our  father  Geyer 
believed  to  atone  for  a  guilt  with  his  self-sacrifice  for  the  whole  family. 

May  not  the  "difficult  times"  be  reasonably  inter- 
preted to  refer  to  the  time  between  his  father's  death 
and  her  so  unconventionally,  though  in  her  desperate 
situation  quite  pardonably,   rapid  marriage  to  Geyer, 


196 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

which  took  place  ten  months  after  the  father's  death, 
the  shortest  period  permissible  under  Saxony's  laws? 
And  Geyer's  guilt  (Schuld)?  May  there  not  be  hidden 
here  an  allusion  to  something  in  Geyer's  life  quite 
different  from  adultery,  some  guilt  of  which  the  in- 
quisitive world  as  yet  knows  nothing  and  may  never 
know  anything,  a  guilt  of  which,  however,  Friedrich 
Wagner  had  known  and  from  the  consequences  of  which 
he  had  rescued  his  friend  Geyer,  thereby  earning  the 
latter's  undying  gratitude?  And  if  Richard  Wagner 
uses  the  words  "eine  Schuld  abbiissen,"  why  give  to 
the  German  word  "Schuld,"  with  its  many  shades  of 
color  from  mere  "indebtedness"  to  "crime,"  just  one  of 
the  very  darkest?  Finally,  it  cannot  have  been  so 
extremely  difficult,  after  all,  for  Wagner  to  tell  his  sister 
in  a  confidential  letter,  in  language  delicate  but  unmis- 
takably clear,  that  he  considered  himself  her  real  brother, 
not  her  step-brother.1 

Such  objections  to  the  usual  interpretation  of  Wagner's 
words  are  at  least  permissible,  and,  taken  together  with 
the  innocent,  chaste  tenor  and  tone  of  Geyer's  accessible 
letters  to  the  widow  Wagner,  they  again  force  the 
Geyer  party  on  the  defensive  in  a  matter  which  to  an 
analytical  mind  is  very  much  more  complicated  than 
they  seem  to  think.  We  must,  in  other  words,  deny 
them  the  moral  right  to  use  Wagner  himself  as  a  witness 
for  their  claims,  until  they  have  proved  beyond  a 
reasonable  doubt  that  Wagner  meant  in  his  letter  to 
Cecilia  what  they,  the  Geyer  champions,  mean. 

They  may  now  say:  Agreed,  that  Wagner's  letter 
to  Cecilia  does  not  necessarily  imply  our  inference; 
agreed,  that  we  cannot  use  Geyer's  letters  for  our 
purpose;  agreed,  further,  that  it  yet  remains  to  be 
proved  that  Wagner  entertained  doubts  as  to  his  paternal 

i  Since  writing  the  above  pages  I  have  come  across  Richard  Batka's  article 
"Richard  Wagner  oder  Richard  Geyer?  Eine  Vaterschaftsfrage"  in  the  "Merker," 
1909.  He  there  states  that  Mr.  Wolfgang  Schumann,  the  stepson  of  Avenarius, 
after  reading  the  letters,  informed  him  that  no  romantic  conclusions  are  to  be 
drawn  therefrom.     Batka  shares  my  opinion  of  the  Geyer  legend. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 197 

parentage  before  Christmas  Day,  1869,  and  after 
January,  1870,  until  his  death — still,  we  have  the  fact  on 
our  side  that  Wagner  expressed  to  intimate  friends  in 
confidential  conversation  the  possibility  of  his  being 
Geyer's  son  and  not  the  son  of  Friedrich  Wagner.  A 
son  who,  notwithstanding  his  undisputed  and  touching 
love  for  his  mother,  thus  impeaches  her  fidelity  as  a 
wife,  must  have  had  his  reasons. — Most  assuredly,  but 
that  does  not  prove  his  reasons  to  have  been  correct, 
or  to  have  been  based  on  facts  which  allow  no  other 
interpretation;  and  until  Wagner's  real  reasons  are 
forthcoming,  no  historian,  no  critic,  no  journalist  is 
justified  in  advancing  one  inch  beyond  Wagner  himself. 
In  other  words,  Wagner's  descent  from  Geyer  remains 
at  its  very  best  a  hypothetical  possibility.  Even  then  the 
arguments  against  a  hasty  acceptance  of  this  hypo- 
thetical possibility  are  not  exhausted. 

Geyer  can  possibly  have  been  Wagner's  father  only 
if  he  is  proved  to  have  been  in  Leipsic  from  six  months, 
at  the  very  latest,  to  nine  months  before  Wagner's 
birth  on  May  22,  1813.  I  know  very  well  that  the 
Seconda  theatrical  company  usually  played  at  Leipsic 
from  the  Oster-Messe  until  the  Michaelis-Messe  (that  is, 
from  spring  to  fall),  but  it  must  be  proved,  if  the  Geyer 
claim  is  to  be  operated  in  that  orderly,  methodical 
fashion  which  has  been  sadly  lacking  so«far  and  which 
alone  makes  history  sound,  that  this  was  true  also  of 
the  year  1812.  After  that  is  done,  then  it  must  be 
proved,  regardless  of  Wagner's  own  reasons  for  the 
hypothetical  possibility  of  his  descent  from  Geyer,  that 
Friedrich  Wagner  neglected  his  wife  at  exactly  the  same 
time  in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  made  it  physically 
impossible  for  him  to  have  been  Richard  Wagner's 
real  father.  Finally,  unless  this  physical  impossibility 
is  established,  not  even  a  statement  from  the  lips  or 
pen  of  Wagner's  own  mother  that  she  believed  Richard, 
under  the  circumstances,  to  have  been  Geyer's  rather 


198 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

than  her  husband's  son,  would  be  acceptable  as  circum- 
stantial evidence. 

To  conclude  the  analysis  of  this  phase  of  the  matter, 
it  is  of  course  possible  that  Wagner  was  not  Friedrich 
Wagner's  son,  just  as  it  is  possible  that  none  of  us  is 
the  child  of  the  man  whose  name  we  bear,  but  among 
decent-minded,  level-headed,  and  unprejudiced  folk  such 
theoretical  possibilities  do  not  count  for  practical 
purposes.  The  probability  that  we  are  the  sons  of  our 
legal  fathers  amounts  for  us  to  a  certainty,  unless 
absolute  proof  to  the  contrary  be  produced.  This 
axiom  should  apply  with  equal  force  to  Wagner,  no 
matter  what  our  grievances  against  him  as  a  man  and 
pamphleteer  may  be.  Until  he  is  absolutely  proved  not 
to  have  been  the  son  of  Friedrich  Wagner,  we  are  in 
decency  bound  to  believe  that  he  justly  bears  the  name 
of  Wilhelm  Richard  Wagner.  We  are  equally  in  decency 
bound  to  refer,  if  we  do  so  at  all,  to  the  theory  of  his 
descent  from  Geyer,  as  a  mere  hypothetical  possibility 
derived  from  arguments,  either  flimsy,  or  contradictory, 
or  non-conclusive,  or  unscrupulous. 

If  Wagner  was  not  Geyer's  son,  then  the  answer  to 
the  question  "Was  Richard  Wagner  a  Jew?"  lacks  the 
sine  qua  non  on  which  the  question  rests.  If  Wagner 
was  not  Geyer's  son,  then,  of  course,  all  speculation  as 
to  his  Jewish  blood  is  futile  and  a  sheer  waste  of  time. 
However,  we  must  always  take  into  consideration  a 
remote  possibility  that  the  hypothesis  of  his  descent 
from  Geyer  can  be  proved.  But,  even  in  that  case, 
it  would  still  remain  to  be  shown  that  Geyer  himself 
was  a  Jew,  before  the  claim  of  Jewish  blood  in  Wagner 
could  be  accepted  as  a  fact. 

Before  this  side  of  the  matter  is  taken  up,  it  must 
be  emphatically  denied  that  Wagner  is  known  to  have 
coupled  a  suspicion  of  Jewish  descent  with  a  suspicion 
of  his  descent  from  Geyer.  He  merely  gave  expression 
to    intimate    friends    of    the    latter    possibility.      But, 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 199 

supposing  that  this  possibility  occupied  his  mind  before 
1870,  and,  further,  supposing  that  he  believed  or  knew 
Geyer  to  have  been  a  Jew,  is  it  conceivable  that  Wagner 
in  that  case  would  have  had  the  audacity  to  launch 
on  the  public,  over  his  own  signature,  an  enlarged  and, 
in  its  additional  matter,  equally  antisemitic  edition  of 
"Das  Judenthum  in  der  Musik"  in  1869?  To  such 
lengths  not  even  those  will  dare  to  go  who,  not  content 
with  recognizing  palpable  weakness  of  character  in 
Wagner,  assail  practically  every  action  of  Wagner  the 
mere  man  with  sweeping  condemnation.  However, 
such  speculations,  too,  would  be  a  sheer  waste  of  time 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  Wagner  is  not  known  to  have 
ever  entertained  the  slightest  doubt  of  his  Christian, 
or  rather,  Germanic  origin. 

On  what  is  the  often  repeated  assertion  based,  that 
Geyer  was  a  Jew?  On  nothing,  except  on  his  supposedly 
Jewish  name  and  on  his  supposedly  Jewish  features! 
This  seems  incredible,  yet  it  is  true.  Not  the  slightest 
attempt  has  ever  been  made  by  those  who  juggle  with  his- 
torical truth,  to  investigate  Geyer's  origin.  And  as  to  his 
Jewish  name  and  features,  they  are  such  dangerous  argu- 
ments that  they  should  have  been  handled  with  more  care. 

To  accept  every  Jew  who  looks  somewhat  like  a 
Christian  therefore  as  a  Christian,  and  every  Christian 
who  looks  somewhat  like  a  Jew  therefore  as  a  Jew, 
without  further  investigation,  would  be  the  height  of 
uncritical  folly.  To  illustrate  this,  just  cast  a  glance  at 
the  picture  of  Wagner's  mother  made  in  1839  and  re- 
produced by  Chamberlain  in  his  work  on  Wagner.  Many 
a  Jewess  has  looked  much  less  Jewish  than  Wagner's 
mother,  yet,  as  Kekule  von  Stradonitz  proved  in  an 
article  based  on  church  and  other  records,  "Ueber  die 
mutterlichen  Ahnen  Richard  Wagners"  in  the  Wagner 
Jahrbuch,  1907,  Johanna  Rosina  Patz  (this  is  the  correct 
maiden  name  of  Wagner's  mother)  descended  on  both 
sides  from  families  of  pure  German  blood.     But  how 


200 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

about  the  supposedly  Jewish  type  of  Geyer's  features? 
Two  portraits,  both  self-portraits,  are  accessible  to  the 
public;  one  (the  scarcer)  in  Mrs.  Burrell's  book,  for 
instance;  the  other  often  reproduced  (for  instance,  by 
Chamberlain).  This  is  the  well-known  portrait  with 
the  old  German  cap,  and  in  this  portrait,  one  may,  if 
so  inclined,  detect  slight  traces  of  a  Jewish  type.  The 
other  portrait,  however,  shows  not  the  slightest  in- 
dication of  such  a  type.  Of  course,  this  is  my  personal 
opinion,  and  others,  perhaps  Jews,  might  disagree 
with  me.  Only  an  impartial  test,  made  by  a  number 
of  competent  judges  who  have  no  inkling  of  the  purpose 
of  the  inquiry,  could  settle  this  point  beyond  dispute. 
Still,  the  Jewish  type  is  so  far  from  unmistakable  in 
Geyer's  portraits,  that  the  most  that  possibly  could  be 
admitted  is  that  he  looks  just  as  much  like  a  Jew  as 
he  looks  like  a  Christian.  Hence,  the  honors  would 
be  evenly  divided  on  this  score,  which  means  that 
Geyer's  supposedly  Jewish  features  cannot  be  advanced 
as  an  effective  argument  for  his  Jewish  origin. 

As  to  his  Jewish  name,  it  is  indeed  a  fact  that  many 
Jews  received  zoological  names  in  Germany  at  the  hands 
of  the  police  and  census  authorities.  Hence  the  anecdote 
of  the  German  boy  who  innocently  asked  his  father  why 
so  many  animals  have  Jewish  names.  This  is  the 
historical  basis,  too,  of  Nietzsche's  famous,  but  cheap 
and  superficial,  witticism,  "Ein  Geyer  ist  beinahe  ein 
Adler."  The  translator,  Mr.  Common,  added  for  his 
English  readers  the  explanatory  foot-note:  "Geyer  (vul- 
ture) and  Adler  (eagle)  are  both  names  of  Jewish 
families."  Even  Mrs.  Burrell,  otherwise  so  careful  to 
verify  her  impressions  by  documents,  fell  into  this 
trap,  for  it  is  a  trap,  and  of  clumsy  workmanship  at 
that.  She  enumerates  a  few  such  zoological  names,  and 
on  p.  lxxvi  says: 

His  [Geyer's]  name  points  to  a  Jewish  origin,  and  I  believe  he 
possessed  Jewish  versatility  rather  than  genius. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 201 

On  p.  xxviii,  too,  she  says: 

Vulture  is  a  distinctly  Jewish  name,  one  of  those  taken  when  in 
Germany  the  Jews  were  forced  to  adopt  surnames. 

And  yet,  just  a  few  words  before,  Mrs.  Burrell  writes, 
"Ludwig  Geyer's  forebears  were  Lutheran  village-folk." 

Well,  if  Nietzsche  says,  "A  Geyer  is  almost  an  Adler," 
his  "almost"  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world,  and 
just  enough  to  undermine  his  inference.  True,  Adler  is 
almost  exclusively  a  Jewish  name,  but  other  animal 
names  like  Fuchs  (fox,)  Wolf  (wolf)  and  Strauss  (ostrich) 
are  not,  and  the  name  Geyer  is  not  at  all  a  Jewish 
name  of  such  frequency  that  any  valuable  deductions 
could  be  made  therefrom  as  to  the  probable  Jewish 
origin  of  its  bearer.  Indeed,  the  name  Geyer  is  much 
more  a  Christian  German  name  than  a  Jewish  German 
name.  At  any  rate,  those  who,  without  misgivings,  see 
a  Jewish  name  in  Geyer,  must  admit,  if  they  are 
capable  of  admitting  anything,  that  Geyer  is  not  so 
typically  a  Jewish  name  in  Germany  as  to  permit  their 
off-hand  inferences.  Again  the  honors,  at  the  very 
worst,  are  evenly  divided,  and  the  theory  of  a  possible 
Jewish  origin  of  Wagner,  even  if  he  was  Geyer's  son, 
has  not  gained  in  substance. 

And  now  comes  an  argument  against  Geyer's  mem- 
bership in  the  Jewish  race,  which  turns  the  scales  in 
our  favor.  To  my  knowledge,  nobody  has  yet  taken 
the  trouble  to  stop  and  consider  that  Ludwig  Geyer 
was  not  his  full  name.  It  was  Ludwig  Heinrich  Christian 
Geyer!  I  venture  to  assert  that  no  Semitic  symptoms 
appear  in  what  we  call  his  Christian  names.  Imagine 
a  Jewish  father,  at  a  time  when  the  Jewish  emancipation 
was  just  beginning  (Geyer  was  born  in  1770),  giving 
his  son  the  name  Christian!  Somewhere  in  the  "fore- 
names," as  the  Germans  aptly  call  them,  a  Jewish  in- 
gredient would  more  likely  appear  than  not.  Hence, 
even  if  the  currently  abbreviated  name  Ludwig  Geyer 


202 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

is  to  be  deemed  neutral,  the  full  name  Ludwig  Heinrich 
Christian  Geyer  is  decidedly  a  genuine  Christian,  and 
not  a  Jewish,  name. 

Now,  combine  this  with  the  fact,  that,  as  we  know 
from  Geyer's  letters  to  the  widow  Wagner  quoted  by 
Mrs.  Burrell,  Geyer's  brother  was  a  Premier-Lieutenant 
(first  lieutenant)  in  the  German  army,  and  things  begin 
to  look  exceedingly  dark  for  the  Jewish  claim.  Un- 
doubtedly, there  have  been  non-baptized  Jewish  officers 
(and  good  ones)  in  the  German  army,  especially  in 
former  decades,  but  the  probabilities  in  any  given, 
doubtful  case  are  entirely  against  the  supposition. 
Unless  an  officer's  name  is  unmistakably  Jewish,  like 
Mendelssohn,  for  instance,  or  Adler,  it  is  fairly  safe  to 
assume  that  he  was  not  a  Jew.  But  maybe  Geyer's 
brother  was  baptized,  which  would  have  made  it  then, 
as  now,  fairly  easy  for  him  to  enter  the  officers'  corps 
in  Germany;  and  perhaps  Geyer  himself  was  baptized, 
while  his  father  and  his  forebears  were  Jews!  Though 
baptized,  Geyer  would  then  still  be  of  Jewish  blood  and 
through  him  Wagner,  if  he  was  Geyer's  son.  I  am 
afraid  that  this  last  and  rather  narrow  alley  of  escape 
ends  in  a  cul-de-sac,  and  that  the  enemy  will  have  to 
surrender. 

Ere  this  it  might  have  aroused  suspicion  as  to  Ludwig 
Heinrich  Christian  Geyer's  Jewish  origin,  that  his  father 
(compare  Glasenapp)  was  "Aktuarius  beim  Oberaufseher- 
amte"  in  Eisleben,  and  soon  after  Ludwig's  birth  was 
transferred  as  "Justizamtmann  nach  Artern."  In  other 
words,  he  was  a  judiciary  official.  Now,  it  has  always 
been  equally  difficult  for  a  Jew  to  enter  the  judiciary 
career  in  Germany  as  the  military  career,  unless  he 
was  a  baptized  Jew.  Consequently,  the  probabilities 
are  again  entirely  against  the  assumption  that  Geyer's 
father  was  a  Jew,  unless  he  be  found  to  have  relinquished 
the  Jewish  faith.  This,  then,  would  take  us  back  to 
Geyer's  grandfather,  who  might  have  been  a  Jew.    But 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW? 203 

why  prolong  the  agony?     When  Edgar  Istel  wrote  his 

review  of  Mrs.  Burrell's  book  and  made  the  extraordinary 

biological  observation  quoted  above,  the  editor  of  Die 

Musik  simply  remarked  in  a  foot-note: 

This  assumption  is  contradicted  by  the  findings  of  the  Geyer 
specialist,  Otto  Bournot,  who,  as  appears  from  Julius  Kapp's  new 
Wagner  biography,  proves  that  Geyer  cannot  have  been  Wagner's 
father. 

One  naturally  hastens  to  refer  to  Kapp's  statement. 

Though  it  is  very  brief,  it  is  useful: 

Also  it  may  be  mentioned  in  passing  that  the  recently  found 
church  records  prove  the  forebears  of  Geyer  all  to  have  been  Protestant 
church  musicians. 

Unfortunately,  Bournot's  book  has  not  yet  left  the 
press,  and  it  is  therefore  impossible  to  say  whether  or 
not  his  reasons  for  rejecting  even  the  possibility  of 
Wagner's  descent  from  Geyer  must  be  accepted  as 
conclusive.  On  the  other  hand,  the  statement  about 
the  ancestry  of  Geyer  is  easily  verified  by  a  study  of 
Glasenapp's  "Tabellarisch  geordneter  Ueberblick  iiber 
die  Familiengeschichte  des  Hauses  Wagner"  in  the 
Wagner  Jahrbuch,  1908.  There  we  find  that  Geyer's 
mother,  Christiane  Wilhelmine  Elisabeth  Fredy,  was  of 
strictly  Protestant  lineage,  and  that  Geyer's  father, 
Christian  Gottlieb  Benjamin  (born  1744),  was  an 
Aktuarius;  his  grandfather,  Gottlieb  Benjamin  (born 
1710),  a  Protestant  cantor  in  Eisleben;  his  great- 
grandfather, Benjamin  (born  in  1682),  an  organist;  his 
great-great-grandfather,  Benjamin  (born  c.  1640),  a 
Stadtmusikus — in  brief,  also  a  purely  Protestant  lineage, 
so  far  as  it  can  be  traced. 

This  settles  the  matter.  The  question  "Was  Richard 
Wagner  a  Jew?"  must  be  answered  with  an  emphatic 
No!  regardless  of  whether  he  was  the  son  of  Ludwig 
Geyer1    or    not.      Furthermore,    if   Otto    Bournot  has 

l_But  this  does  not  satisfy  Hans  Belart,  of  whom  more  anon.  He  contends 
that  instead  of  four  generations  at  least  ten  or  twelve  must  be  traced  in  order 
to  settle  Geyer's  racial  descent.  Practically  this  amounts  to  the  argument  that 
Wagner  had  Jewish  blood  in  his  veins  because  we  cannot  prove  that  he  had  not. 
That  is  worse  than  a  woman's  reason.    Moreover  it  works  both  ways,  and  so  I 


204 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

produced  equally  conclusive  proof  that  (perhaps  for 
chronological  reasons)  Wagner  not  only  was  not,  but 
can  not  have  been  Geyer's  son,  then  this  whole  sensa- 
tional canard  should  promptly  be  dropped  from  books, 
magazines  and  newspapers,  be  they  Jewish  or  not. 
Indeed,  it  would  be  in  the  best  interests  of  those  Jews 
who  have,  maybe  as  firm  believers  in  it,  circulated  this 
myth,  frankly  to  step  forward  and  say,  Pater  peccavimus. 
The  Jews  have  so  many  geniuses  to  their  credit,  in 
theology,  philosophy,  ethics,  science,  literature,  music, 
philanthropy,  even  warfare,  that  they  really  do  not 
need  a  Wagner  to  swell  their  ranks.  Moreover,  the 
road  of  the  Jewish  race  is  thorny  and  hard  enough. 
Antisemitism  will  not  be  downed,  and  those  of  us  who 
number  Jews  among  their  best  and  most  trusted  friends 
can  only  regret  if  other  Jews  help  to  kindle  the  flames 
of  antisemitism  by  printing  without  proof  and  in  an 
objectionable  tone  stories  that  are  offensive  to  decent- 
minded  folk,  Christians  and  Jews  alike. 


Epilogue 

In  his  book  of  essays,  "The  Pathos  of  Distance"  (Scrib- 
ner,  1913),  Mr.  James  Huneker  pictures  Wagner  as  "a 
mean,  tricky,  lofty  soul,  one  that  wavered  along  the 
scale  from  Caliban  to  Prospero,"  with  emphasis  on  the 
Caliban  notches  in  the  scale — which  continues  to  be  the 
fashion.     And,   harking  back   to   Nietzsche's   mauvais 

declare  without  fear  of  possible  proof  to  the  contrary  that  Meyerbeer,  Mendels- 
sohn, Rubinstein,  Goldmark,  Mahler,  were  not  Jews,  but  one-sided  Gentiles! 
Indeed,  if  said  scribifax  had  made  out  Wagner's  ancestors  as  Jews  on  both  sides, 
we  should  be  justified  in  claiming  him  as  at  least  a  one-sided  Gentile  on  the  strength 
of  that  very  argument.  It  enables  us,  furthermore,  if  we  are  so  inclined,  to  call 
Palestrina,  Gluck,  Haydn,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Berlioz,  Debussy,  Bruckner,  Verdi, 
MacDowell,  e  tutti  quanti,  Jewsl 

The  title  of  Otto  Bournot's  careful  biography  of  his  ancestor  speaks  for 
itself:  "Ludwig  Heinrich  Christian  Geyer,  der  Stiefvater  Richard  Wagners" 
(Leipzig,  1913).  Bournot  inter  alia  reached  the  important  conclusion  that  Geyer's 
"Schuld"  (see  page  187)  was  in  the  nature  of  a  pecuniary  indebtedness  to  Wag- 
ner's father,  as  I  had  suspected.  At  this  conclusion  Belart  merely  sneers.  He 
also  has  the  effrontery  to  take  improper  relations  between  Geyer  and  Wagner's 
mother  for  granted  simply  because  Bournot  narrates  that  Geyer  visited  the 
Wagner  family  at  Leipzig  in  the  summer  of  1912. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 205 

mot,  Mr.  Himeker  has  this  to  say  on  the  problem  here 
discussed : 

"His  father  was  a  stage-player  named  Geyer!"  Coming  from 
Nietzsche,  this  statement  is  not  surprising,  for  he  had  read  these 
memoirs  ["My  Life"]  while  at  Villa  Triebschen.  Why  then,  it  will  be 
asked,  does  this  fact  not  appear  in  the  first  page  of  the  autobiography? 
Despite  asseverations  to  the  contrary,  we  suspect  that  Bayreuth 
edited  not  wisely  but  too  well.  Others  beside  Nietzsche  had  seen 
the  opening  line  of  the  work:  "I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer!" 
The  late  Felix  Mottl,  in  the  presence  of  several  well-known  music 
critics  of  New  York  City,  declared  in  1904  that  he  had  read  the 
above  statement.  He  also  told  the  same  story  to  German  jour- 
nalists.    .     .     . 

I  am  afraid  that  Mr.  Huneker  (whom  I  admire  and 
enjoy)  has  been  rubbing  elbows  too  closely  with  firms 
of  scribblers  a  la  Belart  &  Co.,  Ltd.  I  am  also  afraid  that 
Mr.  Huneker,  too  early  in  life,  cast  overboard  the 
traditional  suspicion  that  musicians  are  incorrigible 
gossips  and  auto-anecdotists. 

However,  I  turn  to  a  book  by  another  distinguished 
critic,  whom  I  admire  and  enjoy:  Mr.  Ernest  Newman's 
"Wagner  as  Man  and  Artist"  (Dent  &  Sons,  1914).  It 
contains  a  chapter  on  "The  Racial  Origin  of  Wagner." 
Apparently  written  without  cognizance  of  my  essay  of 
1911,  it  reaches  practically  the  same  conclusions — a 
comforting  coincidence.  The  chapter  disposes  of  sundry 
matters  not  discussed  by  me  (e.  g.,  the  Mottl-Huneker 
report)  as  follows: 

Wagner  did  not  like  Brahms,  and  so  he  accused  [where?]  poor 
Johannes  of  being  a  Jew.  It  was  therefore  natural  that  the  out- 
and-out  Brahms  partisans  should  hail  with  glee  any  opportunity 
of  making  a  retort  in  kind  upon  Wagner.  This  is  attempted  by 
Sir  Charles  Stanford  in  a  preface  to  a  volume  of  Brahms  com- 
positions recently  issued  by  Messrs.  T.  C.  &  E.  C.  Jack.  He 
affirms  afresh — what  we  all  know  quite  well — that  Brahms  was  of  the 
purest  Teutonic  blood.  .  .  So  confident.  .  .  is  this  statement 
of  the  Hebraic  origin  of  Wagner  that  any  plain  man,  unversed  in 
these  matters,  who  happens  to  read  Sir  Charles  Stanford's  preface, 
will  naturally  assume  that  Wagner's  Hebraism  is  as  universally 
admitted  as  the  death  of  Queen  Anne.  Yet  Sir  Charles  offers  no 
evidence  as  to  Wagner  being  a  Jew;  he  simply  tells  us  that  the 
fact  has  been  "discovered." 

Where  and  when,  we  may  ask,  was  this  "discovery"  made?  .  .  . 
The  root  of  the  legend  is  a  notorious  remark  of  Nietzsche's.    That 


206 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

philosopher  had  seen  one  of  the  privately  printed  copies  of  the 
Autobiography  about  1870,  and  his  query  in  the  postscript  to  Der 
Fall  Wagner,  "was  Wagner  a  German  at  all?"  and  his  point-blank 
statement  that  "his  father  was  an  actor  of  the  name  of  Geyer," 
were  supposed  to  have  their  justification  in  the  autobiography. 
It  was  confidently  asserted  that  when  that  appeared  the  truth 
would  be  made  known  to  all  the  world  in  Wagner's  own  confession. 
Well,  the  Autobiography  has  appeared,  and  what  Wagner  says 
there  is  that  Friedrich  Wagner  was  his  father.  There  is  not  the 
shadow  of  a  hint  in  the  book  that  Geyer  was  anything  more  than 
a  friend  of  the  family.  (Mr.  James  Huneker,  who  discusses  the 
subject  in  an  essay  in  his  book  The  Pathos  of  Distance  (1913), 
thinks  he  sees  such  a  hint,  and  a  pretty,  broad  one,  in  one  passage 
that  he  quotes  [the  one  in  which  Wagner  says  that  "the  worthy 
actor,  ...  it  seems,  had  frequently  to  appease  my  mother,  who, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  complained  of  the  Flatterhaftigkeit  of  her  hus- 
band"]; but  the  wish,  I  imagine,  is  father  to  the  thought:  few 
people  would  care  to  put  the  construction  upon  it  that  he  does.) 
Mr.  Huneker  as  good  as  asserts  that  the  commencement  of  the 
Autobiography  has  been  tampered  with.  The  reputation  of  the 
Villa  Wahnfried  in  editorial  matters  is  certainly  not  of  the  best; 
but  after  the  express  assurance  that  has  been  given  the  world 
that  the  Autobiography  has  been  printed  just  as  Wagner  left  it, 
something  more  than  mere  suspicion  is  required  to  bolster  up  a 
charge  of  such  atrocious  bad  faith.  Mr.  Huneker  tells  us  that 
"the  Tate  Felix  Mottl  [etc."  follows  the  passage  quoted  above]. 
That  is  a  little  staggering;  but  again  one  prefers  to  think  that 
Mottl  or  someone  else  was  mistaken  rather  than  that  Cosima  and 
Siegfried  Wagner  have  been  guilty  of  an  incredible  piece  of  literary 
dishonesty.    .    .    . 

Sir  Charles  Stanford  attempts  to  support  his  very  dubious 
thesis  [of  a  Jewish  origin  of  Wagner]  by  some  show  of  musical 
argument.  He"  alleges  that  the  most  marked  characteristic  in  such 
little  Jewish  music  as  still  exists  is  the  continual  repetition  of  short 
phrases — a  method,  he  says,  which  Mendelssohn  "uses  to  the  verge 
of  monotony"  in  his  later  works,  and  which  is  visible  again  in 
Wagner's  employment  of  leading  motives.  Note,  to  begin  with, 
the  restriction  of  the  use  of  this  method  to  Mendelssohn's  later 
works.  Being  a  jew,  Mendelssohn  surely  would  have  betrayed 
this  characteristic  in  the  work  of  his  whole  life,  if  it  really  be  a 
characteristic  rooted  in  the  Hebrew  nature.  It  looks  as  though 
the  ingenuous  argument  were  that  there  is  no  Jew  like  an  old 
Jew.  But  it  is  of  even  less  applicability  to  Wagner  than  to  Men- 
delssohn.   .    .    . 

Mr.  Newman  then  proceeds  to  demolish  Sir  Charles' 
"surely  very  flimsy  foundations  on  which  to  erect  a 
theory  that  Wagner  was  a  Jew,"  and  asks  this  deliciously 
sarcastic  question: 

Will  some  one  provide  us  with  a  sort  of  inch-rule  and  table  of 
measurements,  by  the  application  of  which  we  shall  be  able  to 
say  precisely  where  musical  Judaism  ends  and  Gentilism  begins? 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW? 207 

So  far,  I  should  be  perfectly  willing  to  rest  my  case 
with  Mr.  Newman.  But,  in  my  opinion,  he  weakens 
his  own  case  without  any  necessity  whatsoever  by  the 
two  quotations  here  following  and  briefly  discussed : 

Yet  some  suspicion  clusters  around  a  fact  that  cannot  be  dis- 
covered from  the  ordinary  biographies  of  Wagner.  The  date  of 
marriage  of  Johanna  Wagner  and  Geyer  is  .  .  .  now  known  to  have 
taken  place  in  August,  1814 — on  the  14th  according  to  Otto  Bournot; 
on  the  28th,  according  to  Mrs.  Burrell; — and  a  daughter,  Cacilie, 
was  born  to  them  on  the  26th  of  February,  1815,  i.  e.,  six  months 
later.  This  fact  must  necessarily  count  somewhat  in  our  estimate 
of  the  nature  of  the  earlier  relations  between  Geyer  and  Frau 
Wagner. 

Somewhat?  Perhaps!  Necessarily?  No!  "Esti- 
mate" of  the  nature  of  the  earlier  relations?  It  is  not  a 
question  of  estimate — that  it  is  a  matter  of  taste  and 
inclination — it  is  a  question  of  facts;  and  once  Mr. 
Newman  permits  such  estimates  to  enter  the  structure  of 
his  arguments,  he  will  be  an  easy  prey  for  all  who 
argue  "entertainingly"  but  unmethodically.  The  date 
of  birth  of  Cecilia  permits  us  to  draw  inferences  only 
as  to  the  relations  between  Geyer  and  Frau  Wagner 
from  one  to  three  months  earlier  than  the  marriage. 
On  this  they  had  decided  in  the  spring  of  the  terrible 
year  1814,  in  their  own  mutual  interest  and  out  of 
consideration  for  the  welfare  of  Frau  Wagner's  children. 
And,  as  Mrs.  Burrell  (p.  39)  phrases  her  allusion  to 
subsequent  relations,  "everybody  will  admit  that  it  was 
not  an  occasion  for  adhering  to  the  letter  of  the  law  and 
going  through  the  ceremony  of  waiting  for  a  year  or 
even  ten  months."  What  must  have  happened  in  the 
summer  of  1814,  however,  never  will  justify  anybody 
without  absolute  proof  to  "estimate"  the  nature  of 
previous  relations  between  the  two,  more  especially 
not  the  nature  of  their  relations  in  the  autumn  preceding 
the  birth  of  Richard  Wagner  on  May  22,  1813.  And 
Mr.  Newman  himself  is  satisfied  that  those  letters 
written  by  Geyer  in  December,  1813,  and  January 
and   February,    1814,   to    the  widow  Wagner  are  not 


208 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

those  of  a  man  who  had  wronged  his  dead   friend  and 

benefactor! 

The  other  passage  in  Mr.  Newman's  book  to  which 

exception  must  be  taken  as  not  in  keeping  with  an 

otherwise  methodical  argument,  and  as  showing  an  ear 

slightly  open  to  Mr.  Huneker's  seductive  phrases,  is  this: 

The  point  with  which  we  are  most  closely  concerned  here  is 
not  how  Mein  Leben  came  to  be  written,  but  what  it  contains  on 
the  first  page.  The  copies  that  Nietzsche  and  Mottl  saw  belonged 
to  the  same  imprint  as  Mrs.  Burrell's  copy.  This  last  must  be  in 
existence  somewhere.  If  the  possessor  would  allow  an  inspection 
of  it,  it  could  be  settled  once  for  all  whether  the  first  page  opens 
with  the  words  "I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer,"  or  "My  father, 
Friedrich  Wagner.  .  .  ".  If  Mottl  was  speaking  the  truth,  there  is 
an  end  of  the  matter — except  that  our  last  remaining  shred  of 
respect  for  the  editorial  probity  of  Wahnfried  will  be  gone.  If 
Mottl  was  deceiving  himself  and  others,  we  can  only  fall  back  on 
a  balance  of  the  evidence  I  have  tried  to  marshal  in  the  preceding 
pages. 

Let  us  turn  for  a  moment  to  Wagner's  "Mein  Leben," 
as  accessible  to  all  of  us.     It  begins: 

Am  22.  Mai,  1813  in  Leipzig  auf  dem  Bruhl  im  "roth  und  weissen 
Lowen,"  zwei  Treppen  hoch,  geboren,  wurde  ich  zwei  Tage  darauf 
in  der  Thomaskirche  mit  dem  Namen  Wilhelm  Richard  getauft. 
Mein  Vater,  Friedrich  Wagner,  zur  Zeit  meiner  Geburt  Polizei- 
actuarius  in  Leipzig.  .  .  starb  im  October  des  Jahres  meiner  Geburt. .  . 

Two  precise,  easy-flowing  sentences  with  all  the  data 
that  a  lover  of  autobiographies  would  desire.  But  I 
forget;  originally,  in  the  privately  printed  edition  of  the 
seventies,  according  to  Nietzsche,  Mottl  and  others — 
"who  saw  it" — the  opening  line  had  been:  "I  am 
the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer"!  Does  even  Mr.  Huneker 
believe  that  Cosima  and  Siegfried  deliberately  faked 
six  or  seven  lines — and  of  course  kept  a  watchful  eye 
on  the  rest  of  the  bulky  volumes  with  the  object  of 
destroying  all  traces  of  their  forgery — in  order  to  re- 
move that  "opening"  line?  For  such  a  line  obviously 
does  not  coincide  at  any  point  with  the  quoted  sentences, 
so  that  by  merely  suppressing  it  and  changing  a  few 
words  Wagner's  autobiography  as  we  know  it  would 
begin  as  it  does  begin. 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A   JEW? 209 

It  is,  of  course,  clear  that  Felix  Mottl  made  his 
declaration  in  1904,  but  I,  for  one,  do  not  believe  that 
he  ever  in  his  life  saw  a  line  "I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig 
Geyer"  in  a  book  prepared  and  revised  by  Richard 
Wagner  for  future  publication.  Not  that  Felix  Mottl 
deliberately  lied,  but  I  believe  that  his  memory  played 
him  a  trick  and  that  he  remembered  as  an  experience  of 
his  own  one  attributed  to  Nietzsche.  As  to  Mr.  Hune- 
ker's  "and  others,"  they  do  not  count  until  their  names 
are  produced  together  with  convincing  details  as  to 
when  and  where  they  saw  such  a  line.  As  to  Nietzsche, 
will  those  who  operate  with  his  name  in  this  connection 
kindly  step  forward  with  a  reference  to  when  and  where 
Nietzsche  stated  that  Wagner's  autobiography,  which 
(we  know)  had  passed  through  his  hands,  opened  with 
or  contained  the  line  "I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer"? 
In  1888  he  merely  averred  that  Richard  Wagner's 
"father  was  a  stage-player  named  Geyer"; — not  a 
syllable  to  the  efifect  of  having  seen  this  stated  in  Wag- 
ner's autobiography.  Had  he  seen  it  there,  he  hardly 
would  have  hesitated  to  say  so.  Ah!  but  perhaps 
Nietzsche  was  just  as  much  of  a  Caliban  as  Wagner, 
and  he  refrained  from  such  a  reference  to  Wagner's 
autobiography  because  he  feared  that  the  tables  would 
then  be  turned  against  him  because  of  his  confessed 
distrust  "of  every  point  which  rests  solely  on  the  testi- 
mony of  Wagner  himself"! 

Happily,  there  enters  into  this  maze  of  gossip  one 
who  was  not  given  to  gossip — Mrs.  Burrell.  Mr. 
Newman  pins  his  hopes  for  a  settlement  of  the  Geyer 
problem  on  an  inspection  of  Mrs.  Burrell's  copy  of 
the  original  issue  of  "Mein  Leben."  This  is  a  rather 
unkind,  though  unintentional,  slur  on  Mrs.  Burrell's 
willingness  to  report  and  ability  to  notice,  if  it  were 
there,  an  important  and  startling  biographical  line  like 
"I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer"  in  a  book  which  she 
had    studied    and    which    she    despised.      Now,    Mrs. 


210 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Burrell,  who  is  generally  right  in  her  facts — the  italicized 
words  are  those  of  Mr.  Newman — and  who  almost  made 
a  sport  of  reproducing  biographical  documents  in 
photographic  facsimile,  reproduces  the  title-page  and 
the  preface  of  her  copy  of  "Mein  Leben,"  but  not 
the  opening  page.  Mrs.  Burrell  would  not,  could  not 
in  the  interest  of  her  own  reputation  as  a  biographer, 
have  hesitated  to  quote  or  photograph  or  discuss,  or 
mention,  the  opening  (or  any  other)  page  if  it  had 
contained  such  startling  biographical  information  as 
"I  am  the  son  of  Ludwig  Geyer."  The  very  fact  that 
Mrs.  Burrell  did  not  call  our  attention  to  such  a  line 
or  a  line  of  the  same  content  is  practically  conclusive 
evidence  in  itself  that  it  does  not  occur  in  her  copy  of 
the  original  issue  of  "Mein  Leben."  Hence,  a  further 
belated  inspection  thereof  is  unnecessary.  But  more 
telling  than  this  negative  argument  are  the  facts,  first, 
that  Mrs.  Burrell,  as  I  have  shown,  alluded  to  the  whole 
Geyer  story  as  a  "stupid  confusion,"  and  secondly,  that 
she  never  in  her  volume  shows  the  slightest  doubt  that 
Richard  Wagner  was  the  son  of  Friedrich  Wagner. 

As  long  as  writers  with  the  mental  attitude  of  Ther- 
sites,  Aretino,  Belart,  etc.,  are  born,  the  Ludwig  Geyer 
yarn  will  thrive.  If  critics  must  find  fault  with  the 
character  of  Richard  Wagner,  must  they  also  drag  into 
their  moral  abattoir  his  mother  and  stepfather?  From 
all  accounts,  Ludwig  Geyer  behaved  nobly  toward  the 
widow  and  children  of  his  friend  and  benefactor.  Yet 
some  writers  obviously  prefer  to  tarnish  the  character 
of  such  a  man  without  much  ado,  instead  of  giving 
him  the  benefit  of  doubt  as  long  as  available  evidence 
and  methodical  reasoning  permit.  As  to  Richard 
Wagner,  it  has  become  the  fashion  to  picture  him  as  a 
Caliban  peopling  his  island  of  life  with  Calibans.  The 
thing  has  been  overdone;  Wagner  as  a  man  was  really 
rather  better  than  most  of  his  detractors.  The  time  will 
come  when  they  will  have  carved  out  of  their  unfair 


WAS  RICHARD  WAGNER  A  JEW?  211 

abuse  of  Wagner  a  boomerang  to  smash  the  skull  of 
their  own  reputation. 


Interruption  of  the  mail-service  between  America  and 
Germany  since  the  outbreak  of  the  war  has  prevented 
me  from  incorporating  in  this  epilogue  an  analysis  of  two 
books  bearing  on  the  problem  under  discussion.  The  one 
is  Hans  Belart's  "Richard  Wagner's  Beziehungen  zu 
Francois  und  Eliza  Wille ....  Ludwig  Geyer,  der  Schau- 
spieler  und  Maler  als  leiblicher  Vater  Rich.  Wagners" 
(Dresden,  C.  Reissner,  1914).  At  the  time  of  publication 
a  German  magazine  reviewed  Belart's  arguments.  Their 
flimsiness  was  so  apparent  that  I  had  no  desire  to  read 
the  book,  the  less  so  because  I  did  not  then  contemplate 
republishing  my  own  article.  Now  that  I  have  read  and 
examined  the  Geyer  chapter  in  Belart's  pamphlet,  I  am 
even  less  inclined  to  waste  time  on  a  confutation  of  his 
pseudo-scientific  arguments  based  on  phrenology,  hered- 
ity, "Komodiantengebrauche  und  kulturelle  Sitten,"  etc., 
and  stitched  together  with  the  disorderly  logic  of  the  sensa- 
tion-seeker who  maltreats  his  sources  and  jumps  at  con- 
clusions in  order  to  reach  an  erotic  goal.  And  when  one 
has  read  what  Belart's  pen  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  pam- 
phlet makes  of  the  relations  between  Eliza  Wille  and 
Wagner,  one  almost  suspects  that  there  is  not  only  mad- 
ness in  his  methods,  but  method  in  his  madness.  With 
a  logic  such  as  his,  one  can  prove  everything — or  nothing. 

The  other  book  alluded  to  is  Elizabeth  Foerster- 
Nietzsche's  "Wagner  und  Nietzsche  zur  Zeit  ihrer 
Freundschaft"  (Miinchen,  G.  Muller,  1915).  I  have  been 
told  that  in  this  book  Nietzsche's  conversation  with 
Wagner  about  the  Geyer-problem  is  recorded.  I  was  not 
told  exactly  in  what  manner.  Yet  everything  depends 
on  what  Wagner  said,  when  and  why  he  said  it— and  on 
whether  or  no  Nietzsche  reported  Wagner's  words  cor- 
rectly without  flavouring  them  with  his  own  interpreta- 


212 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

tion.  As  for  Wagner  himself,  did  he  merely  express  an 
opinion  to  Nietzsche,  or  did  he  produce  unequivocal  evi- 
dence to  back  up  his  opinion?  His  mere  opinion  or  belief 
counts  for  very  little,  and  is  not  binding  on  others.  Or 
did  Wagner,  perhaps — he  naturally  loved  Geyer  more 
than  Friedrich  Wagner — simply  prefer  to  consider  him- 
self the  son  of  Geyer  rather  than  of  Wagner?  In  that 
case,  subtle  psychologists  may  also  see  Wagner's  great 
love  for  Cosima,  the  daughter  of  Franz  Liszt,  reflected  in 
his  preferential  belief  (with  everything  implied) ;  but 
biographers  cannot  rear  an  edifice  on  such  motives  of 
psychological  adjustment. 


SIGNS   OF   A   NEW  UPLIFT    IN    ITALY'S 
MUSICAL  LIFE 


SIGNS   OF   A  NEW   UPLIFT   IN   ITALY'S 
MUSICAL  LIFE 

{From  the  " Sammelbdnde"  of  the  I.M.G.,  1900) 

A  "new  uplift"  naturally  presupposes  a  degradation. 
In  fact,  Italy,  in  point  of  musical  culture,  no  longer 
marches  in  the  van  among  enlightened  nations,  but 
ranks  after  Germany,  Austria-Hungary,  Belgium,  France, 
England,  the  United  States,  Norway,  Russia,  and  other 
civilized  states.  I  do  not  now  propose  to  survey  the  cause 
of  this  degradation  along  broad  historical  lines;  but 
some  few  side-lights  must  be  thrown  upon  it,  the  better 
to  illuminate  the  contrast  between  past  and  present. 

The  decline  in  Italy's  musical  standing  antedates  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Grotesque  as  it 
may  sound,  its  symptoms  appeared  and  multiplied  pre- 
cisely during  the  period  of  the  Italian  hegemony,  as  a 
phenomenon  attendant  on  the  mighty  development  of 
the  Opera  in  the  seicento,  and  yet  more  in  the  sette- 
cento;  more  especially  from  the  time  in  which  the  opera 
no  longer  served  exclusively  as  a  pastime  for  gentlefolk, 
but  began — in  1637,  at  Venice — to  become  a  popular 
spectacle.  True,  at  that  same  time  both  the  song  and 
instrumental  chamber-music  in  all  their  varieties  shared 
in  the  general  upward  movement;  but  in  the  course  of 
time  they  found  it  increasingly  difficult  to  compete  in 
popularity  with  the  opera.  No  wonder;  for  they  were 
more  intimate  in  their  effects  and  too  engrossing  in 
their  demands  on  the  hearer.  At  least,  in  comparison 
with  the  opera,  which  gradually  degenerated  into  a 
"show"  for  ear  and  eye.  The  ever-growing  host  of 
Musical  Academies,  of  which  every  hamlet  could  finally 
boast  two  or  three,  could  do  little  to  mend  matters. 
Although  toward  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  they 

21s 


216 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

were  really  promotive  of  musical  progress — let  me  recall, 
for  instance,  the  "invention"  of  opera  at  Florence — at 
the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  throughout 
the  eighteenth,  they  not  infrequently  led  an  equivocal 
existence.  Music  was  often  an  incidental  affair,  quite 
subordinate  to  social  or  Society  interests,  or  less  inno- 
cent things.  The  singing-teacher  Angelo  Bertalotti1 
(1661-1747)  narrates  the  following  delightful  episode  in 
the  early  history  of  the  Accademia  Filarmonica  of 
Bologna,  founded  in  1666: 

They  played  good  music  every  Thursday,  and  Signor  Vincenzo 
Carrati,  a  distinguished  citizen  in  whose  house  the  meetings  took 
place,  derived  so  great  pleasure  from  it,  that  he  had  an  abundance 
of  refreshments  handed  around  to  keep  the  company  alert.  But 
the  Academicians,  and  still  oftener  certain  non-Academicians  who 
attended  the  practice-evenings,  appropriated  even  the  refreshments 
reserved  for  the  players,  thus  causing  disturbances  and  quarrels. 
In  consequence,  the  refreshments  were  done  away  with.  This 
radical  remedy  had  a  bad  after-effect.  The  young  people  absented 
themselves,  being  no  longer  attracted  by  these  adventitious 
trifles,  and  the  evenings  had  to  be  carried  on  by  the  elderly  gen- 
tlemen, who  were  really  unequal  to  the  task.  So  they  frequently 
found  themselves  in  difficulties.  And,  because  of  the  suppression 
of  refreshments,  or  for  some  other  reason,  thenceforward  the 
practice-evenings  were  not  regularly  held  every  week. 

We  shall  not  go  far  wrong  in  assuming  that  the  "other 
reason"  hinted  at  referred  to  the  growing  interest  in  the 
opera.  For,  in  fact,  this  latter  gradually  absorbed 
public  interest  so  completely,  that  at  last  (and  down  to 
the  present  time)  the  Italian  populace  took  the  term 
"music"  to  mean  nothing  more  nor  less  than  "opera- 
music."  And  far  into  the  nineteenth  century,  even 
their  writers  on  music,  when  striving  to  check  the 
decline  of  Italian  art  by  dint  of  pamphleteering,  usually 
had  in  mind  only  the  opera  (or  church  music  too,  pos- 
sibly), without  one  word  of  mention  for  other  varieties 
of  music.  Of  this  there  are  instances  by  the  score. 
As  a  striking  confirmation,  Article  5  in  El.  Pantologo, 
"La  Musica  italiana  nel  secolo  XIX"  (Florence,  1828), 

1  Cf.  Annibale  Bertocchi,  "Notizie  sulla  R.  Accademia  Filarmonica  in  Bologna." 
Lecture  in  the  Aula  of  the  Academy,  April  30,  1897. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        217 

may  suffice.  Here  we  read,  after  an  ecstatic  eulogy  of 
the  composers  of  opera,  the  sentence,  "Corelli,  Vera- 
cini,  Boccherini,  tutti  abili  professori  di  violino  e  diret- 
tori  d'orchestra."  That  is,  merely  skilled  virtuosi! 
Not  a  syllable  about  their  works!  In  fine,  the  entire 
classical  instrumental  music  of  the  Italians  had  fairly 
sunk  into  oblivion,  even  among  the  educated  classes. 
And  the  vocal  treasures  of  the  sixteenth  century  fared 
yet  worse.  Andrea  Maier,  then  a  highly  esteemed 
critic,  strayed  in  1819  thus  far  afield:  "Palestrina  and 
Peri  .  .  .  were  like  fleeting  flashes  that  only  for  instants 
pierced  the  long  night  (nota  bene,  between  Guido 
d'Arezzo  and  Jommelli!),  without  leaving  the  slightest 
trace  of  their  splendor  behind." 

Naturally,  men  of  the  calibre  of  a  Padre  Martini  or 
Mattei  held  themselves  and  their  pupils  aloof  from 
such  an  idiotic  standpoint.  Similarly,  in  the  Conserva- 
tories, in  the  salons  of  certain  aristocrats,  in  the  Acad- 
emies, and  here  and  there  in  artistic  circles,  as  well, 
ensemble  music  was  still  zealously  cultivated  at  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century.  In  these  same 
circles,  too,  German  music  excited  a  lively  interest,  and 
they  did  their  best  to  keep  abreast  of  the  times.  Other- 
wise one  would  fail  to  understand  why  the  publisher 
Lorenzo  Manini  should  advertise,  in  1787,  the  following 
works  in  the  Gazzetta  Cremonese:1  (1)  Trio  .  .  .  del 
celebre  Hoffmeister.  .  .  (3)  Quartetto  .  .  .  di  Haydn. 
(4)  Suonata  da  cembalo  con  accomp.  di  violino  .  .  . 
di  Sterkel.  (6)  Quartetti  .  .  .  di  Stabhinger.  All  in 
all,  from  the  very  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century2 
one  can  trace  German  influences  on  form-development 
among  the  Italians,  which  in  time  increased  rather  than 
diminished.  To  be  sure,  the  opposing  influence  was  far 
stronger,  as  we  know.     It  is  significant  enough,  how- 

1  Cf.  L.  Lucchini,  "Cenni  Storici  sui  piti  celebri  Musicisti  Cremonesi."  Ca- 
salmaggiore,  1887. 

iCf.     Scheibe,  "Kritischer  Musikus." 


218 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

ever,  that  Rossini,  the  idol  of  the  Italians,  who  (accord- 
ing to  the  current  national  notion)  owed  his  style  solely 
to  his  own  and  the  national  genius,  was  jocularly  called 
"il  tedeschino"  by  his  teacher  Mattei  because  he  per- 
sistently studied  and  copied  Haydn  and  Mozart,  and 
played  them  with  his  friends.  As  for  that,  we  know 
that  Spontini,  Cherubini,  and  Rossini's  rival  Pacini 
(witness  his  Autobiography),  were  similarly  inclined. 

To  what  avail?  Opera  none  the  less  flooded  the 
whole  land,  and  it  was  Rossini  himself  who  dragged 
Italy  into  this  perilous  vortex.  "Egli  nacque  per  la 
beata  tranquillita" — thus  he  was  characterized  in  1823 
by  one  of  the  most  famous  virtuose  of  his  music,  namely, 
Marie  Giorgi  Righetti.  And  the  great  Vitiator  of  Taste 
inoculated  his  entire  people  and  period  with  this  beata 
tranquillita  —  beatific  contemplativeness.  During  his 
Italian  period  he  performed  the  feat  of  definitively 
forcing  Italian  opera  aside  from  Monteverdi.  That  is 
to  say,  not  from  the  inventor,  but  assuredly  from  the 
founder  of  a  genuine  music-drama,  who  wrought  with 
undeveloped  resources,  indeed,  yet  purposefully,  along 
the  same  lines  as  Richard  Wagner — with  the  leading- 
motive,  with  the  orchestra  as  a  psychological  back- 
ground of  the  dramatic  picture,  and  with  the  program- 
overture.  Thus  Italian  opera — after  many  veerings  in 
the  right  direction — took  on  the  shape  wherein  its  mon- 
grel nature  stands  confessed:  the  concert-opera,  or  (to 
modify  the  phrase)  the  virtuoso  concert  with  scenery, 
orchestral  accompaniment,  and  connecting  text.  What 
need  was  there  now  of  church  music,  choral  song,  and 
concert  music?  All  three  could  readily  supply  their 
needs  from  the  opera.  It  was  like  a  wholesale  ware- 
house, crammed  full  of  solo  and  ensemble  numbers,  to 
wit,  bravura  arias,  duets,  terzets,  quartets,  etc.,  Ave 
Marias,  drinking-songs,  and  lastly  even  symphonies, 
namely,  the  Vorspiele  or  preludes  (formally  often  rightly 
so  named),  which  after  all  frequently  had  nothing  in 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        219 

common  with  the  following  opera  as  regards  either 
character  or  motives.  "Ma  chi  prescrisse  mai  l'indole 
delle  sinfonie  delle  opere  in  musica?"  naively  exclaimed 
the  Righetti.  In  one  word,  church,  concert  and  salon 
became  a  welcome  repository  for  the  opera. 

Every  house  was  ravaged  by  the  operatic  plague. 
The  arrangements  of  opere  teatrali  for  low  music-hall 
orchestras  all  the  way  down  to  the  transcriptions  of 
entire  operas  for  violin  solo — violin  scores,  as  it  were1 — 
multiplied  like  rabbits.  Whatever  still  remained  of 
taste  and  artistic  feeling  was  swept  away  by  the  well- 
nigh  immeasurable  flood  of  sentimental  rubbish  and 
salon  literature.   So  much  for  the  household  music. 

But  what  were  they  playing  and  singing  around  1850 
in  the  Italian  churches?  Arias  and  galops  by  Rossini, 
Verdi,  and  others,  provided  with  liturgical  texts.  When 
they  wished  to  be  in  style,  they  chose  religious  numbers 
from  the  most  popular  operas.  For  example,  there  may 
be  found  in  the  Ricordi  catalogue,  under  the  heading 
Sonate,  Versetti,  Messe,  ecc,  per  organo,  "La  Ceciliana, 
Collezione  di  pezzi  originali  e  sopra  motivi  d 'opere 
teatrali";  and  further  on,  under  Guida  per  I'organista, 
"La  Traviata,  La  Favorita,  Simon  Boccanegra,"  etc. 
So  one  easily  gains  an  understanding  of  the  musical 
soir6es  which  Capocci2  arranged  with  the  approbation 
of  the  priesthood  in  the  Oratory  of  San  Filippo,  the 
time-honored  birthplace  of  the  oratorio!  Favorite 
operas  were  frequently  put  on  the  program,  rearranged 
for  men's  voices  alone.  This  delectable  modus  operandi 
was  undertaken  inter  alia  in  the  case  of  Rossini's  Semi- 
ramide,  different  words  being  adapted  to  the  two  parts 
of  Semiramide  and  Arsace;  and  in  this  form  they  were 
blithely  sung  by  two  singers  of  the  Sixtine  Chapel. 

This  makes  the  opulent  section  devoted  to  Musica 
sacra  in  Ricordi's  catalogue  all  the  more  bewildering. 

i  See  Ricordi's  catalogue. 

2  See  the  admirable  work  by  G.  P.  Zuliani,  "Roma  musicale.  Appunti — Os- 
servazioni — Notizie."     Rome,  Botta,  1878. 


220 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

But  let  us  not  yield  to  bewilderment.  Even  to  this 
day,  music  in  the  Italian  churches  retains  a  predomi- 
natingly secular  character.  Now,  considering  that  since 
that  time  a  decided  improvement  has  taken  place,  the 
masses  and  motets  then  composed  must  infallibly, 
despite  their  devotional  titles,  have  smelt  of  the  street 
and  the  side-scenes  for  miles  away.  So  much  for  the 
church  music. 

And  what  were  they  playing  and  singing  in  concerts? 
I  intentionally  avoid  writing  "in  concert-halls."  For 
these  latter  are  extremely  scarce  in  Italy.  Most  con- 
certs were  then  given,  as  they  are  now,  in  the  theatre; 
this  being,  by  the  way,  another  factor  which  imper- 
ceptibly but  surely  was  bound  to  promote  the  blending 
of  the  art-styles  and  to  wipe  out  the  distinctions  between 
them.  Programs  like  that  of  Giuseppe  Grassi's  Acca- 
demia  Vocale  ed  Istrumentale,  of  May  2,  1844,1  were 
not  at  all  rare:  (1)  Ouverture  a  grande  orchestra  nel 
Cavallo  di  Bronzo  del  Maestro  Auber.  (Usually  only 
"Ouverture"  is  printed,  without  mention  of  the  opera 
or  the  author.)  (2)  Variazioni  per  violino  sopra  un 
tema  del  "Pirata,"  .  .  .  Coro  a  Introduzione  nel  Roberto 
il  Diavolo  del  M°  Meyerbeer.  (4)Cavatina  nella  Pia  da 
Tolomei  del  M°  Donizetti.  (5)  Fantasia  per  Violino 
sopra  una  Romanza  francese  e  la  Muta  di  Portici.  (6) 
Ouverture   a   Grande   Orchestra   del    M°    Mercadante. 

(7)  Capriccio  di  Beriot  sopra  un  Tema  di  Beethoven. 

(8)  Coro  nel  Voto  di  Jefte  del  M°  Genesali.  (9)  Cava- 
tina  nell'  opera  il  Sesostri  del  M°  Baccilieri.  (10) 
Variazioni  sopra  dei  Temi  della  Sonnambula.  —  But  as 
late  as  1880  the  following  enormity  was  possible  in 
Bologna.2  On  May  28th,  at  a  charity  concert,  after 
orchestral  works  by  Nicolai,  Liszt  and  Saint-Saens,  the 
audience  was  treated  to  a  Minuet  by  Boccherini  and 


!Luigi   Bignami,   "Cronologia  di  tutti  gli  spettacoli  rappresentati    nel  gran 
Teatro  Comunale  di  Bologna  1763-1880." 

*C/.  Bignami,  op.  cit. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        221 

Liszt's  Second  Rhapsodie  played  by  twenty-four  ladies 
on  twelve  pianos.  At  the  foot  of  the  program,  all  the 
countesses  and  other  ladies  who  lent  their  pianos  are 
mentioned  by  name.  And  this  at  Bologna  on  May  the 
28th,  in  the  year  of  grace  1880! 

A  brief  statistical  survey  of  the  Catalogo  generate 
issued  by  the  mammoth  publishing-house  of  Ricordi  & 
Co.  will  show  more  clearly  than  any  amount  of  historical 
consideration  to  what  an  extent  the  whole  interest  in 
and  production  of  music  in  Italy — in  other  words, 
supply  and  demand — have  been  absorbed  by  the  opera. 
In  this  catalogue  of  about  100,000  published  numbers, 
whose  three  volumes  contain  1,525  pages,  folios  822  to 
824  are  devoted  to  international  string-quartets.  On 
these  three  pages  are  found  34  composers  with  85  works 
(among  which,  for  evident  reasons,  I  do  not  count 
"Romanzas"  as  string-quartets).  Of  the  above,  24 
composers  with  47  works  are  Italian.  By  contrast  we 
find  in  the  section  for  Opere  teatrali  for  piano  solo  some 
110  Italians  with  400  operas.  This  disproportion  grows 
to  be  monstrous,  however,  when  we  reach  the  fear- 
somely  swollen  section  of  the  Spartiti  manoscritti,  Opere 
teatrali,  farsi,  oratorii,  cantate.  Here  I  have  counted  over 
1,420  works  by  some  400  composers.  Of  these  works 
the  oratorios  and  cantatas  number  hardly  more  than  70. 
So  there  remain,  still  in  round  numbers,  some  1,350 
opere  teatrali.  Of  the  400  composers,  about  80,  with  185 
works,  were  found  to  be  foreigners.  Subtracting  these, 
there  are  left  320  Italians  with  1,165  works. 

Thus  we  have  for  the  string-quartet  24  composers 
with  47  works;  for  the  opera  320  composers  with  1,165 
works.  Neither  of  these  calculations  can  be  appreciably 
affected  by  the  inconsiderable  infusion  of  works  belong- 
ing to  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  objection  may  be  raised,  that  only  string-quartets 
in  the  Ricordi  catalogue  have  been  taken  into  account, 
and  that  many  more  than  these  have  been  produced  in 


222 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Italy.  True  enough;  I  might  even  support  this  conten- 
tion with  names  of  unrepresented  composers.  But 
Ricordi  has,  in  the  first  place,  bought  out  a  number  of 
important  publishing  houses  (among  them  those  of 
Fr.  Lucca,  and  G.  Guidi  of  Florence,  the  latter  being 
almost  the  sole  firm  worthy  of  note  in  connection  with 
Italian  string-quartets),  and,  in  the  second  place,  more 
operas  have  also  been  written  than  those  published  by 
Ricordi. 

Publishers,  as  a  rule,  are  not  so  altruistic  as  to  pur- 
chase every  manuscript  opera  offered  them.  On  the 
contrary,  because  of  the  heavy  expense  involved,  they 
pick  and  choose.  And  so  the  effect  of  this  argument 
would  be,  at  most,  to  shift  the  ratio  of  24/47:  320/1165 
to  the  advantage  (or  disadvantage)  of  the  opera. 

If  only  all  these  composers  had  been  masters  like 
Rossini,  Donizetti,  Bellini,  Verdi,  Mercadante,  Pacini, 
Ponchielli,  Petrella! — men  able  to  create,  within  a 
decadent  form,  music  which  was  original,  charmful,  of 
real  significance  and,  now  and  again,  unsurpassed  in 
beauty. 

If  only  the  dramatic  vocal  art  of  Italy  had  saved  its 
brilliancy  and  its  purity  from  out  this  operatic  deluge! 
But  various  observations  of  Rossini's,  Verdi's  and 
Pacini's,  and  a  flood  of  polemic  literature  on  the  subject, 
prove  how  the  decline  of  vocal  art  kept  pace  with  the 
increase  in  operatic  productions.  Besides,  the  last  great 
artists  of  the  Italian  school  were  frequently  not  Italians 
at  all,  but  Frenchmen,  Germans,  or  Spaniards: — Mali- 
bran,  Hungher,  Stolz,  Waldmann,  Krauss,  Duprez, 
Garcia,  etc.  Then,  consider  the  number  of  those  who 
Italianized  their  good  French  or  German  names!  The 
mischievous  notion  began  to  spread,  that  vocal  art  was 
of  small  account,  and  sheer  vocal  display  everything. 
"But,  my  dear  man,  even  a  donkey  has  a  voice!"  was 
Simon  Mayr's  fitting  retort  to  Donizetti  when  the  latter 
attempted    to    defend    the    new    fashion.      Unhappily, 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        223 

Donizetti  knew  his  compatriots  better  than  did  the 
semi-Italian  Mayr.  For  the  chief  cause  of  the  inde- 
scribable deterioration  of  Italian  vocal  art  was,  and 
still  is,  that  the  people  go  wild  over  any  mere  amateur 
who  happens  to  possess  a  ringing  voice  and  a  stout  pair 
of  lungs.  Bravura  finally  triumphed  over  everything 
else,  including  common  sense. 

In  proof,  read  what  follows:1  In  a  certain  duet  be- 
tween soprano  and  baritone,  the  former  begged  her 
partner  to  sing  a  transposed  version  of  the  duet,  as  her 
weak  voice  would  be  overpowered  by  his  at  the  original 
pitch.  The  baritone  refused.  And  the  sequel?  He 
jauntily  sang  his  part  solo,  at  the  original  pitch.  The 
audience,  instead  of  protesting,  listened  with  delight  to 
this  remarkable  solo.  When  the  baritone  had  finished, 
came  a  higgledy-piggledy  modulation  by  the  orchestra, 
after  which  the  soprano  sang  her  part  at  a  pitch  con- 
venient for  her  voice,  likewise  with  overwhelming 
applause.    And  the  whole  piece  figured  as  a  duet! 

If  only  the  public  of  that  period  had  attended  the 
opera  merely  for  the  gratification  of  their  ears  in  suchlike 
musical  revels!  But  often — very  often — not  musical 
emotion  was  sought,  but  political  agitation.  It  was  a 
time  of  political  ebullition.  The  police,  working  with 
decent  and  indecent  expedients,  kept  watch  over  every 
step,  every  word,  every  assemblage.  By  violent  means 
they  sought  to  suppress  the  entire  movement  which  was 
inevitably  leading  to  the  final  unification  of  Italy.  So 
they,  of  course,  controlled  the  musical  associations, 
dissolved  them  at  will,  and  carried  everything  with  a 
high  hand.  The  Roman  police,  for  example,2  when 
Cav.  Venanza  (whom  they  found  troublesome)  sug- 
gested to  the  Accademia  Filarmonica  that  Spontini's 
Fernando  Cortes  should  be  produced,  made  no  bones  of 

i  See  the  work  "Riflessioni  sulla  causa  della  Decadenza  della  scuola  di  canto 
in  Italia"  (Paris,  Dupont,  1881),  by  the  great  singing-master  Delle  Sedie. 

2  Zuliani,  op.  cit. 


224 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

throwing  him  into  prison  for  a  term  of  eight  years  as 
guilty  of  political  intrigue.  Thus  the  opera  became  a 
ready  instrumentality  for  outwitting  the  police.  How- 
ever they  might  have  the  book  censored,  or  mutilated, 
or  revised,  passages  were  sure  to  be  left  which  the 
public  might,  could  and  would  interpret  to  fit  current 
political  conditions.  In  this  way  the  opera  grew  to  be 
a  political  meeting  in  which  the  singers  assumed,  as  it 
were,  the  roles  of  popular  orators.  Without  previous 
conferences,  there  was  a  common  understanding,  and 
this  sufficed  to  keep  the  fires  of  liberty  continually 
ablaze.  Now  wed  the  words  to  a  passionate,  inflam- 
matory music  like  that  in  I  Lombardi  or  La  Battaglia 
di  Legnano  by  Verdi — who  was  explicitly  called  il 
maestro  delta  rivoluzione  itatiana,2  whose  name  became 
a  battle-cry: 

Viva  Vittorio  Emmanuele  Re  D'ltalia 

and  whose  successes  at  that  time  depended  in  great 
part  on  political,  rather  than  aesthetic,  elements — and 
the  opera  became  a  soul-stirring  scene  for  the  fanatics 
of  freedom,  but  a  disgusting  spectacle  for  such  as  came 
to  hear  opera  as  opera. 

This  extrinsic  peculiarity  of  the  moribund  Italian 
opera  was  also  not  calculated  to  promote  the  taste  and 
decorum  of  the  public.  And  it  was  precisely  this 
Italian  opera-going  public,  even  now  the  most  unman- 
nerly and  obstreperous  in  Europe,  which  so  sadly 
needed  to  acquire  a  modicum  of  good  behavior.  It  had 
always  stood  in  ill-repute.  Thus  Riccoboni,  in  his 
"Reflexions  historiques  et  critiques  sur  les  diff6rents 
theatres  de  1' Europe"  (1740),  speaks  of  the  Italian 
theatre  as  follows: 

In  almost  all  the  Italian  towns  the  audiences  are  very  restless, 
being  in  an  uproar  even  before  the  piece  begins.  The  Italians  are 
violent  and  boisterous  in  expressing  their  applause;  "Viva!" — "Va 

2C/.  Monaldi's  Biography  of  Verdi. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        225 

dentro!"  (chase  yourself!)  .  .  .  and  often  overwhelm  the  artists 
with  insults,  to  show  their  exasperation  more  plainly,  and  throw 
rotten  apples  on  the  stage.  .  .  .  Ladies  and  gentlemen  having 
seats  in  the  Parquet  take  care  not  to  put  on  good  clothes,  said 
seats  being  rendered  very  uncomfortable  by  the  habit  of  spitting 
anywhere  and  everywhere,  more  especially  from  the  boxes  into 
the  Parterre,  and  the  tossing  down  of  unconsumed  fragments  of 
luncheon. 

We  have  similar  reports  from  an  Anonymus,1  from 
De  Brosses  in  his  "Letters  of  Travel,"  Gretry,  F.  Filippi, 
the  Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Milano  (1858,  No.  28),  etc. 
As  for  myself,  I  have  had  similar,  and  in  great  part 
precisely  the  same  experiences  in  Padua,  Verona, 
Bologna,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1899!! 

So  matters  stood  about  1850,  when  a  reform  movement 
set  in.  It  originated,  of  course,  among  social  elements 
to  whom  musical  conditions  in  the  nation  at  large  were 
uncongenial — first  of  all  in  those  circles  which,  despite 
the  operatic  deluge,  contrived  to  apportion  their  musical 
requirements  equally  between  opera,  concert  music,  and 
chamber-music.  Next  in  order  came  the  Gazzetta 
Musicale  di  Milano,  founded  in  1842.  The  chief  pur- 
pose of  this  organ  of  Ricordi's  was,  and  still  is,  to  further 
the  interests  of  that  firm.  But  the  Gazzetta,  being 
cleverly  edited,  has  managed  from  the  outset  to  com- 
bine these  interests  with  those  of  its  readers,  the  useful 
with  the  agreeable.  It  carefully  recorded,  in  particular, 
every  triumph  of  Italian  opera,  it  published  a  vast 
deal  of  correspondence  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe 
(that  concerning  Germany,  to  be  sure,  frequently  at 
second  or  third  hand),  and  sought  to  satisfy  the  curio- 
sity of  its  clientele  in  all  other  ways.  Now,  whether 
or  no  G.  Ricordi  actually  intended  it,  these  international 
reports,  small  talk  and  gossip,  together  with  sundry 
original  articles  {e.  g.,  Simon  Mayr's  "Stato  e  Coltura 
della  Musica  in  Germania,"  1844-45),  set  forth  beyond 
all  question  that  in  Germany,  especially,  great  things 

1  "Voyage  historique  et  politique  de  Suisse,  d'ltalie  et  d'Allemagne."  Frank- 
fort, 1736. 


226 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESS  A  YS  IN  MUSIC 

were  preparing;  that  the  Germans  had  broken  away 
from  the  Italian  leading-strings,  and  that  a  German 
opera  was  already  in  existence.  Nor  was  this  all; 
choral  singing,  symphony  and  quartet  were  cultivated 
there  on  a  par  with  the  opera.  "Germany  is  sweating 
music  from  every  pore!"  wrote  a  reporter  to  his  astounded 
readers  at  home;  and  the  echo  of  quite  unfamiliar 
names  came  from  over  the  Alps.  With  the  names  of 
Haydn,  Mozart,  and  Beethoven,  which  were  known  by 
hearsay,  at  least,  a  number  of  others  appeared  to  be 
conjoined  in  an  irresistible  onward  sweep  of  German 
musical  activities. 

Now  the  more  lucid  minds  of  Italy  began  to  feel  a 
certain  uneasiness.  Scattered  individuals  aroused  them- 
selves and  called  loudly  for  progress  and  reform;  soon 
the  movement  swelled  into  a  veritable  tidal  wave  of 
books,  pamphlets,  essays,  articles — a  swing  toward 
reform  which  had  by  no  means  spent  its  force  at  the 
turn  of  our  century.  Six  distinctive  demands  were 
made: 

1.  That  the  government  should  bestow  greater 
attention  on  public  musical  instruction,  music  being 
unquestionably  to  be  recognized  as  an  important 
educational  factor. 

2.  The  same  with  regard  to  choral  singing,  already 
firmly  rooted  in  other  countries.  In  Italy,  the  or- 
ganization of  choral  societies  should  be  taken  in 
hand  systematically  and  vigorously. 

3.  That  church  music  should  be  purified. 

4.  That  instrumental  music  should  be  revivified  in 
Italy. 

5.  "Vinte  le  puerili  suggestioni  della  vanita"  (Biaggi), 
that  Italian  opera  should  be  subjected  to  a  searching 
examination  as  to  its  vitality,  and  (if  needful)  be 
rejuvenated  by  an  infusion  of  foreign  blood. 

6.  That  the  Italian  public  should  not  be  left  in 
ignorance  of  Richard  Wagner. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        227 

The  justifiability  of  the  first  three  points  was  quite 
generally  admitted.  But  just  these  three  were  the 
latest  to  be  taken  in  hand,  the  first  one  for  the  special 
reason  that  the  authorities  did  not  have  the  necessary 
means  at  their  disposal  to  carry  out  such  reforms. 
True,  school-singing  has  been  fostered,  but  thus  far 
the  harvest  has  been  meagre.  The  methods  seem  to 
be  at  fault;  at  least,  van  Elewyck  and  L.  Torchi  find 
little  in  them  to  commend. 

The  reorganization  of  the  Conservatories,  too,  did 
not  get  fairly  under  way  until  after  1870.  There  was 
too  long  a  contention  over  questions  of  management, 
e.  g.,  whether  day-school  or  boarding-school  {Liceo  or 
Convitto)  were  preferable.  Matters  were  changed  when 
Verdi,  Casamorata,  Serrao  and  Mazzucato  wrote  their 
celebrated  Report  "On  the  Reform  of  the  Institutes 
of  Music"  to  the  Ministry  of  Public  Instruction.  This 
list  of  shortcomings  made  an  impression,  and  a  general 
polishing  and  patching  began. 

The  revival  was  first  in  evidence  in  the  Royal  In- 
stitute of  Music  at  Florence  (under  Casamorata), 
which  laid  less  stress  upon  the  training  of  virtuosi 
than  on  controlling  and  promoting  musical  instruction 
throughout  the  city.  The  institution  (since  about 
1860)  has  been  admirably  managed,  and  up  to  1874 
had  already  given  some  4000  students,  free  of  expense, 
a  sound  training  in  music.1 

In  Turin,  the  reform  in  instruction  is  bound  up  with 
the  name  of  Carlo  Pedrotti.  This  master  was  not 
only  a  notable  composer  and  conductor,  but  a  born 
director  of  a  musical  institute.  He  first  displayed  this 
talent  at  the  Liceo  Musicale  in  Turin  (from  about 
1870),  and  later  (from  1882  onward)  at  the  Liceo 
Rossini  in  Pesaro.  After  his  death  in  1893,  Mascagni 
had  therefore  the  very  exacting,  though  most  enviable, 

iVan  Elewyck,  "De  l'Etat  actuel  de  la  musique  en  Italic.  Rapport  officiel 
adress£  a  Monsieur  le  Ministre  de  l'interieur  du  royaume  de  Belgique,"   1875. 


228 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

task  of  proving  himself  not  unworthy  of  his  predecessor. 

The  Milan  Conservatory,  already  noteworthy  under 
Lauro  Rossi,  was  further  elevated  by  the  united  efforts 
of  Bazzini  and  Mazzucato  (from  1873)  into  a  place  of 
unquestioned  superiority.  For  Bazzini,  the  great  store 
of  experience  gained  in  Leipzig  and  Paris  was  of  prime 
importance. 

The  Liceo  Musicale  in  Rome,  dependent  on  the  Royal 
Accademia  di  Santa  Cecilia,  has  likewise  developed 
rapidly  since  1868  to  an  assured  prosperity,  thanks  to 
the  devoted  labors  of  Commendatore  Em.  Broglio, 
Sgambati,  Pinelli  and  Petturi,  seconded  after  1870  by 
De  Sanctis,  Orsini,  Rommacciotti,  Terziani,  and  other 
famous  musicians.1  Of  a  truth,  there  were  plenty  of 
obstacles  in  their  path.  Sgambati  and  Pinelli  at  first 
gave  lessons  gratis,  until  the  city  authorities  contributed 
a  (yearly)  subvention  of  30,000  lire,  while  the  Province 
and  the  central  government  gave  10,000  lire  each. 
Thereby  at  least  the  continuance  of  a  practically  managed 
music-school  in  the  Eternal  City  was  assured. 

But  why  write  a  history  of  the  Italian  Conservatories? 
The  Instituti  musicali  del  Regno  d'ltalia  at  Bologna 
(Martucci,  L.  Torchi,  Sarti),  Florence,  Genoa,  Milan, 
Naples  (Platania),  Novara,  Padua  (Pollini),  Palermo, 
Parma  (Tebaldini),  Pesaro,  Rome,  Turin,  Venice  (Liceo 
Benedetto  Marcello,  since  1877  under  Enrico  Bossi), 
besides  others,2  are  estimable,  in  part  excellent,  insti- 
tutions, managed  quite  like  similar  ones  in  Germany. 
The  one  in  Parma  may,  however,  be  confidently  held 
up  as  a  model  institute,  since  Giovanni  Tebaldini  took 
over  its  management  in  1897.  His  attention  has  been 
chiefly  directed  to  the  branches  of  ensemble  music,  so 
sadly  neglected   in   Italy.3      Whereas  at   Bologna  and 

1  Cf.  Zuliani. 

2  Those  in  italics  are  Royal  institutions,  the  others  municipal;  private  schools 
are  not  mentioned. 

3  "Annuario  del  R.  Cons,  di  Parma,  1897-98"  (Parma,  L.  Battei,  1899).  Report 
to  the  President  of  the  Conservatory. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        229 

elsewhere  there  exists,  for  example,  neither  chorus  class 
nor  orchestra  class,  such  classes  are  organized  at  Parma 
just  as  methodically  as  in  Cologne  or  Vienna.1  But 
not  this  alone.  In  Parma  there  are  even  classes  in 
Gregorian  chant  and  vocal  polyphony.  The  programs 
for  the  practice-evenings  also  make  an  excellent  impres- 
sion. For  one  thing,  the  balance  between  Italian  and 
non- Italian  classics  is  maintained  with  artistic  taste. 
And  as  just  the  Italian  instrumental  classics  are,  in 
great  part,  unknown  quantities  in  Italy,  Tebaldini 
designedly  devotes  entire  evenings  to  them.  (June  2, 
1898.)  Still  further  to  enhance  the  utility  of  these 
"history  classes,"  as  one  is  tempted  to  call  them,  Tebal- 
dini introduced  the  program  with  an  explanatory  lecture, 
closing  with  these  words:  "To  produce  the  works  of 
masters  of  earlier  times,  not  on  formal  historical  grounds, 
but  to  give  them  new  life,  is  a  requirement  which  nowa- 
days may  logically  be  imposed  on  every  Conservatory 
.     .     .     .     above  all,  for  purely  didactic  reasons!" 

My  remarks  on  choral  singing  in  the  Conservatories 
illustrate,  better  than  aught  else,  the  slender  interest 
taken  in  Italy,  even  at  this  late  day,  in  choral  singing. 
Innumerable  suggestions  for  promoting  this  important 
factor  in  music  have  already  been  made.  For  why 
should  just  Italy  be  deprived  of  the  rich  resources  of 
oratorio  and  chorus  music?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  a 
multitude  of  choral  societies  have  been  brought  into 
being,  but  very  few  of  them  survive  their  infancy. 
And  I  fancy  that  some  decades  will  pass  before  choral 
singing  receives  half  the  attention  it  deserves  in  Italy. 

lAt  Bologna  one  point  impressed  me  unpleasantly.  I  attended  the  annual 
examination  concert,  and  found  that  nearly  all  the  students,  excepting  those  of 
Sarti  (the  leader  of  the  Bolognese  Quartet),  played  pieces  far  beyond  their  ca- 
pacity. This  is  the  more  to  be  regretted,  because  some  of  the  pupils  are  doubtless 
very  talented.  I  might  have  ascribed  the  bungling  to  excitement  and  the  frightful 
heat  (mid-June),  had  the  vocal  classes  not  shown  the  same  deficiency.  Students 
in  their  second  or  third  year  sang  excerpts  from  Don  Giovanni,  Don  Carlos,  Re 
di  Lahore,  etc. ;  the  effect  may  easily  be  guessed.  The  auditors,  of  course,  applauded 
frantically,  and  the  newspapers  treated  these  raw  efforts  of  mere  scholars — all 
these  saggi  finali,  in  fact — as  if  they  were  artistic  events  of  the  first  rank.  This 
certainly  does  not  do  those  young  people  any  good.  On  the  contrary,  they  lose 
all  sense  of  proportion  with  respect  to  their  own  performances  and  the  work  of 
their  teachers. 


230 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

The  Italian  character  and  social  prejudices  are  formidable 
obstacles  in  the  path  of  the  good  cause. 

First  of  all,  the  Italian  does  not  like  a  long  preparation 
of  months  for  a  final  triumph — the  triumph  on  the 
concert  evening!  For  it  is  vanity,  rather  than  delight 
in  a  common  artistic  endeavor,  that  urges  him  to  join 
a  choral  society.  He  wearies  of  the  regular  hours  of 
rehearsal  and  of  painstaking,  thorough  study.  Neither 
does  he  care  to  let  his  wife  and  daughter  display  them- 
selves and  sing  in  a  chorus  of  both  sexes;  that  is  improper, 
according  to  Italian  views,  and  besides,  the  very  idea 
of  a  "chorus"  connotes,  for  him,  something  of  an  inferior, 
despicable  and  mercenary  nature.  An  Italian  finds  it 
difficult  to  discriminate  between  a  theatre  chorus  (which 
is,  in  fact,  frequently  a  motley  crew  of  poor  beggars  and 
unfortunate  girls),  and  a  choral  society  whose  members 
are  brought  together  by  a  love  of  good  music,  desiring 
artistic  enjoyment  for  themselves  and  to  impart  it  to 
others,  without  thought  of  flirtation.  He  is  unable  to 
conceive  the  meeting  together  of  young  folks  of  both 
sexes  as  due  to  anything  but  a  more  or  less  disguised 
sex-impulse.  Besides,  why  should  one  take  so  much 
trouble,  when  choruses  are  ready  to  hand? — namely, 
theatre  choruses,  which  (in  his  opinion)  can  sing  all 
the  amusing,  nice,  celebrated,  northern  (brr!)  music 
exactly  as  well.  It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  this 
petty  opposition  to  a  species  of  music  from  which  other 
nations  derive,  year  after  year,  many  hours  of  the 
purest  enjoyment,  will  die  out. 

Still  another  social  factor  operates  unfavorably.  There 
are  in  Italy  scores  of  choral  and  other  musical  societies 
which  are  not  supported  by  regular  contributions  from 
their  members,  and  do  not  try  to  cover  their  expenses 
by  the  sale  of  concert-tickets,  but  form  private  associa- 
tions under  the  presidency  of  some  patron.  This  patron 
(usually  a  conte,  marchese,  or  principe)  bears  all  ex- 
penses, opens  his  palace-halls  for  rehearsals,  interests 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        231 

himself  in  every  other  way  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
society,  but  considers  it  withal  as  a  personal  diversion, 
has  a  word  to  say  even  in  artistic  matters,  and  lets  the 
whole  thing  drop  whenever  he  finds  it  too  expensive  or 
otherwise  inconvenient.  The  directorate,  weary  of 
continual  personal  friction,  has  by  that  time  generally 
lost  all  desire  to  reorganize  the  society,  and  one  fine  day 
it  is  dissolved,  one  can  hardly  say  how,  when,  or  where. 

All  these  things,  as  aforesaid,  are  most  unfavorable 
for  the  development  of  Italian  choral  singing.  Never- 
theless, the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
witnessed  a  slight  improvement. 

Florence  must  again  be  mentioned  in  first  place. 
Here  Prof.  Jefte  Sbolci  founded,  previous  to  1840,  his 
Societd  per  lo  studio  delta  musica  classica,  which  by 
1858  already  had  the  goodly  number  of  two  hundred 
and  forty  concerts  to  its  credit.  Then,  in  1860,  the 
Societd  Cherubini  began  its  career  under  M.  Laussot, 
whose  successor  (in  1873)  was  the  highly  distinguished 
pianist  Buonamici,  a  pupil  of  Biilow  and  Rheinberger. 

Milan  owed  its  first  really  systematically  trained 
choral  society  to  the  exertions  of  Martin  Roeder — one 
can  see  how  German  influences  filter  through  at  all 
points.  Roeder,1  who  in  many  ways  did  much  for  the 
improvement  of  Italian  taste,  founded  at  the  beginning 
of  the  'seventies  the  Societd  del  Quartetto  Corale  as  a 
subdivision  of  the  Societd  del  Quartetto  di  Milano. 
The  Milanese  owe  it  to  his  well-planned,  unswervable 
advance  from  the  easy  to  the  more  difficult  that  they 
have  become  acquainted,  step  by  step,  with  the  entire 
classic  and  romantic  choral  literature.  The  fact  that 
Roeder's  enterprise  has  succeeded  is,  in  my  opinion,  to 
be  ascribed  in  part  to  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Milano, 
whose  fulminant  articles  shook  the  citizens  and  musicians 
of  the  better  class  out  of  the  lethargy  of  prejudice,  and 

1  Martin  Roeder,  "Ueber  den  Stand  der  offentlichen  Musikpflege  in  Italien." 
Breitkopf  &  Hartel,  1881;  Waldersee-Vortrage. 


232 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

almost  put  them  under  moral  obligation  to  support 
Roeder.  Another  association,  the  Societd  Corale  Leoni, 
must  be  mentioned  for  completeness'  sake  and  also 
because  it  was  only  the  cordial  cooperation  of  these 
two  societies  which  made  possible  the  Milanese  premiere 
of  the  Ninth  Symphony  in  April,  1878. 

In  Turin,  since  the  organization  of  the  Societd  Corale 
Stefano  Tempia  (in  1875,  if  I  mistake  not),  choral 
music  has  been  aroused  from  its  trance,  so  that 
concert-goers  are  no  longer  forced  (as  in  1855)  to 
accept  II  Trovatore  as  a  "concerto  di  musica  classica 
vocale  e  strumentale."  On  the  contrary,  the  programs 
— with  historical  notes — of  the  Societa  Tempia  display 
a  really  exemplary  cultivation  of  serious  choral  music. 

Rome  deserves  mention  in  the  same  breath  with 
Florence,  Milan  and  Turin.  The  superabundance  of 
robust  and  mellow  voices  in  the  Romagna  is  almost  a 
challenge  to  the  founding  of  choral  societies.  And  yet, 
some  fifty  years  ago,  secular  choruses  were  unheard-of 
organizations,  the  Philharmonic  Academy  alone  excepted. 
But  the  history  of  even  this  society  consists,  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  in  a  perpetual  alternation  between 
dissolution  by  the  police  and  reorganization.  How 
keen  the  police  were  on  the  scent  of  treason,  has  been 
mentioned  above.  When  the  Academy  took  on  the 
predicate  of  "Royal"  in  1870,  it  might  doubtless  have 
led  a  peaceful,  contemplative  and  profitable  existence, 
had  personal  bickerings  not  brought  about  the  resignation 
of  numerous  members.  These  secessionists  founded, 
under  the  presidency  of  Prince  Alfieri  and  maestro 
Mustafa  (a  favorite  of  the  Pope's),  the  Societd  Musicale 
Romany  which  soon  had  a  membership  of  120  singers, 
performing  within  a  short  time  the  operas  La  Vestale 
and  Cortez,  by  Spontini,  and  Handel's  Messiah.  The 
Filarmonica,  having  thus  become  a  mother,  remained 
for  some  time  quite  exhausted.  It  then  took  heart 
of   grace,   and   proved   its   vitality    (200   voices)    by   a 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        233 

successful  production  of  Mendelssohn's  St.  Paul,1  of  The 
Seasons,  and  of  a  Requiem  by  Cherubini.  All  this  in 
the  'seventies. 

Since  then  no  great  changes  have  taken  place,  either 
in  Rome  or  elsewhere.  Most  of  the  above  societies 
still  flourish;  a  number  of  others  were  started,  had  no 
success,  and  perished  almost  before  the  musical  press 
had  a  chance  to  take  note  of  their  existence;  not  until 
the  close  of  the  century  did  certain  choral  societies 
arise,  whose  disappearance  would  be  regretted.  Among 
these  were  the  Societa  Filarmonica  Giuseppe  Verdi  in 
Venice,  which  fosters  chiefly  modern  composers  (Perosi, 
Wolf-Ferrari's  sacred  cantata  La  Sulamite,  1899),  the 
Societa  G.  S.  Bach  in  Rome,  under  A.  Costa  (giving  a 
work  like  the  St.  Matthew  Passion  in  1896),  the  Accademia 
di  canto  classico  corale  G.  P.  da  Palestrina  in  Bologna 
(founded  in  1899,  and  already  giving  acceptable  per- 
formances in  1900  under  the  steady  and  thoroughly 
musical  guidance  of  the  young  maestro  Guido  Alberto 
Fano),  and  the  Societa  Corale  Internazionale  of  Milan, 
founded  by  Ermanno  Wolf-Ferrari,  a  pupil  of  Rhein- 
berger. 

This  choral  movement  takes  on  a  more  definite  form 
in  conjunction  with  the  reform-movement  in  church 
music.  It  has  been  shown  above,  in  what  a  morass  this 
latter  was  floundering  prior  to  1850.  But  as  late  as 
1875  von  Elewyck  writes,  in  his  chapter  on  Rome,  that 
he  had  heard  church  music  in  thirty  Roman  churches 
and  found  an  "absence  complete  d'unit6  dans  le  plain- 
chant,  multiplicity  d'editions,  accompagnements  d'orgue 
tres-divers,  mais  presque  tous  fort  incorrects,"  and  at 
Palermo,  even  in  the  High  Mass,  "des  fragments  d 'opera, 
alternant  avec  le  choeur  de  la  liturgie  et  produisant  la 
plus  d6testable  cacophonie." 

1  Neither  this  performance,  nor  the  one  by  Roeder  at  Milan,  in  1878,  was  the 
first  in  Italy,  as  is  generally  assumed.  Casamorata  (cf.  the  Gazz.  Musicale  di 
Milano,  1878),  shows  that  there  were  productions  as  early  as  1841  and  1846 
(Florence). 


234 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Such  a  state  of  affairs  could  not  be  greatly  affected 
by  either  Gaspari  (Bologna),  Maglione  (Florence),  Baini 
(Rome),  or  a  handful  of  associations  like  the  Societa 
Pioftlarmonica  di  Torino  (under  Luigi  Rossi).  Not 
until  1874  did  a  marked  revulsion  set  in,  as  Padre  Don 
Guerino  Amelli  and  maestro  Salvatore  Meluzzi  ener- 
getically advocated  a  reform  at  the  Catholic  Congress 
in  Venice.1  This  led,  a  year  later,  to  the  foundation 
of  a  school  for  church  singing  in  Venice,  and  in  1877, 
at  the  Catholic  Congress  in  Bergamo,  (1)  to  the  founding 
of  the  Generate  Associazione  Italiana  di  Santa  Cecilia, 
(2)  to  the  effective  support  of  the  periodical  "Musica 
Sacra,"  established  in  May  of  that  year,  and  (3)  to  a 
campaign  against  the  totally  inadequate  church  organs, 
which  were  still  (according  to  Elewyck)  in  part  por- 
ta tives. 

Nevertheless,  this  strife  over  the  organs  would  pro- 
bably have  been  decided  in  favor  of  the  Preachers  of 
Conservatism,  had  it  not  happened  that  Saint-Saens, 
at  a  concert  in  the  Milan  Conservatory  in  1879,  roundly 
refused,  after  various  desperate  attempts,  to  continue 
playing  on  that  squeaky  "kist  o'  whistles."  Refusal  by 
such  an  authority  made  a  tremendous  impression. 
Shame  was  felt,  and  the  Reform  Party  got  the  upper 
hand.  It  gradually  established  schools  for  church 
singing,  after  the  pattern  of  those  at  Ratisbon  and 
Malines,  in  Milan,  Venice,  and  elsewhere;  it  founded  a 
new  periodical,  "Guido  Aretinus,"  and  made  new 
converts  daily  among  the  younger  generation.  But,  as 
things  go  in  Italy,  this  enthusiasm  lasted  three  or  four 
years,  and  in  1885  the  whole  movement  seemed  likely 
to  be  lost  in  the  sands.  As  Tebaldini  dejectedly  wrote, 
only  he  himself  and  Prof.  Terrabugio  were  still  actively 
interested  in  "Musica  Sacra."  All  at  once  the  party 
was  awakened  to  new  life  by  the  intervention  of  Bishop 
Caligari  in  Padua.    The  diocese  of  Padua,  and  others, 

lCf.  Giovanni  Tebaldini,  "La  Musica  sacra  in  Italia."     Palma,  Milan,  1893. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        235 

joined  the  movement;  Enrico  Bossi  (now  Director  of 
the  Liceo  Benedetto  Marcello  in  Venice)  contributed 
his  golden  gifts  as  an  organist,  and  Conte  Francesco 
Lurani  added  a  contribution  of  gold  of  more  prosaic 
stamp;  the  daily  press  began  to  exhibit  a  warmer  sym- 
pathy for  the  devotees  of  Palestrina  (possibly  for  the 
special  reason  that  Verdi  referred,  in  and  out  of  season, 
to  Palestrina  as  the  greatest  of  Italian  masters) ;  the 
most  important  German  and  French  works  on  the 
Liturgy  and  Church  Music  were  translated  and  pub- 
lished; "Musica  Sacra"  instituted  competitions  (con- 
corsi)  for  organ  music  in  the  strict  style;  the  Pope 
became  interested,  and  with  the  aid  of  maestro  Mustafa 
subjected  the  superannuated  Cappella  Sistina  to  an 
overhauling;  Giovanni  Tebaldini  gave  lectures  here, 
there  and  everywhere  with  his  own  peculiar  forcefulness 
and  virulence,  and  finally  founded  the  periodical  "La 
Scuola  Veneta  di  Musica  Sacra"; — in  a  word,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  'nineties  it  was  no  longer  possible  to 
doubt  that  the  mouldy  usages  of  yore  were  being  swept 
aside.  Just  at  this  time,  fortunately,  the  Palestrina 
celebrations  occurred.  Two  years  later,  grand  memorial 
festivals  for  Saint  Anthony  were  held  in  Padua  (June 
13—17,  August  16—18),  where  Tebaldini,  then  still 
maestro  di  cappella  at  S.  Antonio  (where,  after  he  was 
called  to  the  Parma  Conservatory,  he  was  succeeded 
by  Ravanello),  carried  out  programs  of  a  positively 
astounding  variety  and  excellence.  Thus  the  Reform 
found,  through  fortuitous  aid,  an  opportunity  to  prepare 
the  way  for  a  final  onslaught.  At  least,  it  would  now 
seem  as  if  nothing  further  blocked  the  path  of  the 
movement,  more  especially  since  the  establishment  of 
the  Societa  di  San  Gregorio  Magno  (Rome,  1897), 
which  began  operations  with  a  concorso  for  a  four-part 
Mass  in  the  strict  style;  and  since  the  Congress  for 
Church  Music  at  Turin  in  1898,  at  which  all  pertinent 
questions  were  freely  discussed. 


236 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Finally,  mention  must  be  made  of  Don  Lorenzo 
Perosi,  well  known  as  the  pupil  of  Haberl  in  Ratisbon. 
Whether  one  over-  or  undervalues  his  gifts,  he  was 
undeniably  the  first  to  awaken  an  interest  for  churchly 
music  among  the  generality  of  the  Italian  people.1 
Not  "churchly"  in  our  sense,  but  with  that  strange 
blending  of  mysticism  and  worldly  pomp  which  char- 
acterizes the  Italian  churches.  Of  both  these  qualities, 
his  music  contains  a  quite  sufficient  amount.  But  just 
for  this  reason,  it  can  form  a  bond  between  the  champions 
of  Palestrina — or,  rather,  of  a  strict  churchly  style 
taking  Palestrina  as  its  pattern — and  the  faithful 
masses; — a  bond  which  is  absolutely  essential  to  the 
practical  efficacy  of  the  Reform  Party's  endeavors. 
For  it  would  be  vain  to  ask  that  the  Italian  churchgoer, 
hitherto  accustomed  in  divine  service  to  popular,  sugary 
music  with  an  occasional  bit  in  opera-style,  should 
suddenly  feel  himself  at  home  in  a  Palestrina  motet  in 
the  pure  style.  Besides,  Perosi  is  not  the  only  recent 
writer  of  oratorios  in  Italy.  At  Palermo,  nine  composers 
competed  at  the  Concorso  Bonerba  for  oratorio;  the 
prize-winner  was  Benedetto  Morasco's  oratorio,  in 
four  sections,  La  Liberazione  di  Betulia.  This  work 
having  obtained  no  further  publicity,  no  opinion  can 
be  advanced  as  to  whether  it  gives  proofs  of  talent 
equal  (say)  to  Perosi's  Resurrection  of  Christ. 

As  mentioned  at  the  very  beginning  of  this  article, 
the  reforms  in  the  spheres  of  instruction,  choral  singing, 
and  church  music,  were  confronted  by  no  active  oppo- 
sition; it  was,  at  most,  passive.  Matters  were  very 
different  when  the  other  three  points — instrumental 
music,  opera  in  general,  and  Wagner  in  particular — 
began  to  be  pushed. 

The  question,  in  point  of  fact,  was  this:  Whether 
the   Italians,   who  to  this  very  day  like  to  consider 

1  Verdi's  Requiem  for  Manzoni  is  intentionally  passed  over;  as  a  Requiem 
by  a  religious  secular  composer,  I  consider  it  a  masterwork. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        237 

themselves  the  lords  of  creation  in  matters  musical, 
might  or  might  not  be  allowed  to  take  lessons  of  the 
Germans.  There  ensued  a  strife  whose  imbecility, 
meanness,  fury  and  shortsightedness  have  at  times  been 
on  a  par  with  the  contemporaneous  conflict  over  the 
music  of  the  future  in  Germany.  Since  Handel's  time 
the  Italian  public  had  occasionally — though  seldomer 
than  is  usually  supposed,  as  statistics  prove — tolerated 
operas  by  German  composers  (Hasse,  Gluck,  Weigl, 
Winter,  Mayr,  Nicolai)  in  which  a  piquant  dash  of 
German  sentiment  was  overbalanced  by  the  Italian 
element.  Italian  audiences  rejoiced  over  the  apt  pupils 
of  the  Maestri,  lent  them  applauding  hands,  and  felt 
themselves,  as  proprietors  of  the  sole  means  of  operatic 
grace,  exalted  far  above  time  and  space.  And  now, 
all  of  a  sudden,  the  Italians  were  to  sit  at  the  feet  of 
the  Germans!  Precisely  at  the  moment  when  Italy 
fancied  it  had  an  endless  roll  of  "geniuses"  at  its  disposal, 
successfully  playing  a  worldwide  game  of  hocus-pocus. 
The  plebeian  saying,  "Quel  che  piace,  e  bello"  (what 
we  like,  is  fine)  was  sophistically  applied  to  the  most 
plebeian  of  all  art-forms,  namely,  the  opera. — Quel  che 
piace,  e  bello!  Our  much-abused  opera  pleases  us  a 
thousand  times  better  than  the  cold,  academic  music 
of  a  Mozart  or  a  Weber,  therefore  it  is  very  fine,  far 
finer  than  German  opera,  anyhow.  But  when  anything 
is  fine,  why  reform  it?  Quod  erat  demonstrandum. 
Then  what's  the  meaning  of  the  impudence  and  in- 
gratitude of  the  Germans,  these  "tedeschi  nebulosi," 
beyond  the  Alps,  and  of  the  depravity  of  the  traitorous 
crew  on  this  side?!  "We  Italians  have  no  need  of  study. 
We  draw  inspiration  from  the  fair  skies  above  us,  and 
have  nothing  to  learn  from  foreigners."  Brave  words, 
indeed,  these  of  Cav.  Lingiardi.1  But  even  these  are 
overmatched  by  G.  B.  de  Lorenzi:2  "Do  let  us  rather 

1  P.  C.  Remondini,  "Intorno  agli  Organi  Italiani."    Genoa,  1879. 
2S.  Lorenzi,  "La  Musica  del  nostro  secolo  e  la  musica  dell'  avvenire,  ecc." 
Vicenza,  1871. 


238 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

engage  a  German  for  music,  a  Russian  for  sculpture,  a 
Turk  for  painting,  a  Laplander  for  architecture,  a 
Patagonian  for  esthetics,  and  an  Icelander  for  poetry!" 
These  elegant  extracts  might  be  multiplied  at  pleasure; 
the  above  absurdities  were  taken  at  random  from  among 
my  excerpts.  But  they  will  suffice.  They  show  how  the 
average  Italian  set  himself  against  outside  influences,  less 
because  he  deemed  his  opera  to  be  really  beyond  amend- 
ment (i.  e.,  faultless),  or  from  jealousy  of  competition, 
than  simply  because  of  wounded  vanity.  And  all  the 
while  he  knew  German  opera  only  from  hearsay — from 
press-notices.  He  had  no  conception  of  its  nature  or 
of  its  opulence,  nor  has  he  down  to  the  present  day. 
Occasional  isolated  performances ■  of  Gluck's  Iphigenie 
in  Aulis  (Naples,  1812),  Mozart's  Figaro  (Naples, 
1814,  1870;  Milan,  1815),  Don  Giovanni  (Naples,  1812; 
Milan,  1814,  1815,  1825,  1836,  1871;  Parma,  1842), 
Cost  fan  tutte  (Milan,  1807,  1814;  Naples,  1821),  Magic 
Flute  (Milan,  1815),  Weber's  Der  Freischiitz  (Florence, 
1843;  Milan,  1872),  Nicolai's  Templer  und  Jiidin  (Parma, 
1843;  Milan,  1866),  and  two  or  three  other  operas, 
among  which  those  of  Simon  Mayr,  Weigl,  Meyerbeer 
and  Flotow  are,  of  course,  not  included,  could  give  the 
Italians  no  correct  and  lasting  concept  of  operas  written 
by  Germans  in  the  German  spirit. 

Under  such  conditions,  Filippo  Filippi  did  well  to 
take  up  the  cudgels.*  Having  himself  first  of  all  to 
labor  through  prepossession  for  and  overvaluation  of 
the  Italians  (he  called,  for  example,  the  much  too 
eclectic  Don  Carlos  of  Verdi  an  "imposing  score"), 
and  the  distorted  views  of  German  music,  this  brilliant 
— even  if  not  infallible — musical  writer  held  his  ground 
in  the  very  midst  of  the  movement  from  about  1865 
until  his  death  in  1885.  He  speedily  joined  issue  with 
the  whole  of  Italy,  but  showed  himself  capable  of  re- 

1  Compare  the  statistical  data  by  Bignami,  Cambiasi,  Ferrari,  Florimo,  Lia- 
novasani,  etc. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        239 

repelling  every  assault.  In  the  periodicals  "La  Per- 
severanza,"  "Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Milano,"  and  "II 
Mondo  Artistico"  (he  founded  this  last  in  1867),  and 
in  his  collected  essays  "Viaggio  and  Secondo  Viaggio 
musicale  nelle  regioni  dell'  awenire"  (German  trans- 
lation 1876)  and  "Musica  e  Musicisti,"  he  strove  un- 
tiringly, not  so  much  to  expose  the  weak  points  of 
Italian  opera  as  to  emphasize  the  coexistence  of  German 
genius,  and  to  get  at  the  essence  of  German  music. 
His  chief  demand  might  be  briefly  stated  in  the  sentence, 
Whoever  would  criticize  Wagner,  should  first  know  him. 

This  sounds  like  a  truism.  But  none  of  the  howlers 
and  criticasters  knew  Wagner  even  in  1870,  not  to  say 
ten  or  twenty  years  earlier.     What  Filippi  wrote  from 

Weimar,  in  1870,  was  quite  characteristic:  " 

At  home  we  seize  every  opportunity  to  drag  Wagner 
out  in  order  to  defame  him,  without  in  the  least  under- 
standing his  character  or  that  of  the  people  for  whom 
he  writes,  without  familiarity  with  any  of  his  artistic 
aims,  or  with  any  of  his  works,  save  in  fragments.  .  .  . 
My  admiration  for  Wagner  dates  from  the  day  on  which 
I  first  heard  the  soul-stirring  harmonies  of  the  Pilgrims' 
Chorus  from  Tannhduser." 

Now,  do  not  forget  that  on  April  the  20th,  1868,  for 
the  first  time  in  Italy — to  the  best  of  my  knowledge — 
an  excerpt  from  Wagner's  works  was  publicly  per- 
formed, namely,  an  aria  from  Tanhhduser  in  a  concert 
by  the  Societa  Cherubini  at  Florence.1  Then  came  (at 
Milan,  in  1868-69),  the  overtures  to  The  Flying  Dutch- 
man, Tannhduser  and  Rienzi,  and  other  selections. 
In  private  circles,  too — except  in  Rome  (Franz  Liszt) 
and  Florence  (Mme.  Laussot,  etc)— there  could  have 
been  little  known  of  the  music  of  the  future;  for  it  was 
only  in  1868  that  Francesco  Lucca  acquired  the  Wag- 

1 1  do  not  take  into  consideration  transcriptions,  like  that  of  the  Tannhduser 
March  by  Liszt  (pianist  Andreoli,  Milan,  1866),  or  Wilhelmj's  arrangement  of 
the  Lohengrin  Prelude  for  double-quartet  (Societa  Cherubini,  Florence,  Dec.  30th, 
1867). 


240 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

nerian  works  and  published  them  bit  by  bit,  commencing 
with  the  Tannhauser  March  and  Overture  for  piano 
two  and  four  hands.  The  Rienzi  vocal  score  (translated 
by  Arrigo  Boito)  did  not  appear  till  1869,  and  the  real 
"music  of  the  future"  much  later,  if  we  disregard  the 
"Cinque  Canti"  ("Traume,"  etc.)!  And  the  theoretical 
writings,  such  as  "Oper  und  Drama,"  were  not  pub- 
lished by  Fratelli  Bocca  in  Turin  until  some  time  in 
the  'nineties,  the  translator  being  L.  Torchi. 

But  it  can  be  proved  that  the  fight  over  Wagner 
broke  out  at  the  beginning  of  the  'sixties  in  Italy. 
This  being  so,  whence  did  his  opponents  derive  their 
wisdom? 

From  the  "Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Milano"!  Hardly 
ushered  into  existence  (1842),  it  showed  its  lust  for  a 
tussle  with  each  and  every  adversary  of  Italian  music 
in  a  skirmish  with  Fetis.  It  took  him  still  more  roughly 
to  task  when  he  published  his  noted  polemics  against 
Verdi  in  1850.  But  it  made  a  positively  brutal  attack 
on  the  "Neue  Berliner  Musikzeitung"  when  this  latter, 
also  in  1850,  turned  a  searchlight  on  musical  conditions 
in  Italy.  (See  No.  48.)  "First  learn  to  stand  steady 
on  your  own  legs,  dear  Sirs.  And  should  you  happen 
to  need  Italian  maestri  to  hold  you  up  straight,  then 
let  your  sense  of  shame  move  you,  at  least,  to  do  them 
honor."  For  the  rest,  this  same  article  throws  a  flood 
of  light  on  the  knowledge  then  possessed  by  Italians 
concerning  the  nature,  abundance  and  value  of  German 
music.  Over  against  Haydn,  Mozart  and  Beethoven 
are  set,  as  equal  in  rank,  men  of  the  type  of  Morlacchi, 
Vaccai,  Coccai  and  Coppola ;— Bach  and  Gluck,  for 
example,  being  wholly  ignored.  And,  further  on: 
"Should  you  mention  Meyerbeer,  gentlemen,  we  would 
bow  in  homage,  for  we  know  what  is  due  to  the  exalted 
geniuses  of  all  nations." — Meyerbeer's  music  as  typical 
of  German  art!  And  as  Verdi,  in  particular,  served  an 
apprenticeship  to  Meyerbeer  during  the  transition  to 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        241 

his  last  style,  what  irony  of  logic!  For  between  the 
lines  we  read  an  admission  of  the  influence  of  German 
opera  on  the  Italian. 

But  these  amenities,  together  with  the  war  of  words 
anent  Emil  Naumann's  Italian  "Reisebriefe"  (1852) 
and  Hanslick  in  the  years  following,  sound  like  a  gentle 
barking  beside  the  infuriated  howls  and  foul  abuse 
which  broke  loose  after  1855  over  Wagner  and  the 
music  of  the  future.  Whereas  the  Gazzetta  had  turned 
a  benevolent  eye  on  Wagner's  first  steps  (Rienzi),  and 
even  reprinted,  with  flattering  commendation,  the  ar- 
ticles which  he  wrote  in  Paris  for  Schlesinger's  "Gazette 
musicale  de  Paris"  (see  No.  5  et  seq.,  1842),  venomous 
reports  on  him  from  Berlin,  London,  Paris,  and  other 
cities,  gradually  gathered  in  volume.  From  these 
reports  the  contributors  to  the  Gazzetta  later  drew  the 
material  for  their  soi-disant  arguments.  The  German 
Preachers  of  Conservatism  and  anti-Wagnerians  were 
quoted  with  rapture,  and  the  Parisian  fiasco  of  Tann- 
hduser  was  told  and  retold  with  malignant  delight. 
A  brief  reaction  for  the  better  set  in  when  Filippo 
Filippi  assumed  the  editorship  (toward  the  beginning 
of  the  'sixties).  He  perceived  that  the  correspondents 
were  often  merely  pushing  the  interests  of  Ricordi  the 
publisher;  so  now  and  then  he  put  a  curb  on  the  con- 
scienceless chatter.  But  the  Gazzetta  ceased  publication 
at  the  close  of  1862,  not  appearing  again  until  1866 
under  the  editorship  of  F.  Ghislanzoni  (librettist  to  the 
Ricordi  firm)  and  later  of  S.  Farina,  and  then  directly 
hauling  round  to  the  old  course.  Wagner  was  pilloried 
as  a  clown  and  secondrate  inkslinger.  And  worse  was 
to  come  when  Francesco  Lucca  was  so  bold  and  far- 
sighted  as  to  purchase  his  Italian  rights.  Even  before 
this  happened,  the  defence  of  Italian  opera  at  all  costs 
being  question  of  life  or  death  for  the  house  of  Ricordi, 
owners  of  the  Gazzetta,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  its 
attitude  where  Wagner  was  concerned.     The  Gazzetta 


242 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

no  longer  lent  itself  to  pretendedly  serious  discussions. 
It  no  longer  called  attention  to  the  popularity  of  Italian 
opera  abroad.  In  its  regular  Review  of  the  Year  (Pro- 
spetto  retrospettivo)  it  no  longer  compared  Italian 
opera-production  with  the  parallel  German  output, 
stating  the  matter  this  wise:  We  Italians,  in  1853, 
brought  52  operas  to  market,  the  Germans  only  12; 
we  61  (!)  in  1857,  they  only  17;  consequently,  there  is 
no  trace  of  decadence  with  us. — No,  it  adopted  a  far 
more  effective  expedient.  It  laughed  and  sneered.  It 
made  fun  of  the  Germans  for  continually  spelling  Italian 
names  incorrectly,  and  for  knowing  less  about  Italian 
conditions,  by  and  large,  than  the  Italians  knew  about 
German.  As  if  they  themselves  had  never  put  their 
foot  in  it!  For  example,  they  took  Johanna  Wagner 
for  Wagner's  wife  (1847),  Peter  Cornelius  the  painter 
and  Peter  Cornelius  the  poet-musician  for  one  and  the 
same  person  (1858,  p.  270),  set  down  Wagner's  birthyear 
as  1815  instead  of  1813  (1859,  No.  15),  etc.  Filippi 
was  ridiculed  because,  under  his  editorship,  the  sub- 
scription-list of  the  Gazzetta  sank  to  32,  and  publi- 
cation was  suspended  (1871,  p.  142);  and  Richard 
Wagner's  name  hardly  appeared  except  in  the  Rubrica 
amena  (the  "funny  column"). 

Certain  bon  mots  of  Rossini's,  current  in  the  music- 
trade,  were  turned  against  the  aweniristi  (musicians  of 
the  future)  for  a  like  purpose.  Generally  speaking,  the 
cause  of  a  genius,  an  innovator,  is  in  a  bad  way  when 
the  bourgeois  no  longer  stands  in  awe  of  him,  but 
banters  him.  And  yet  worse,  when  a  "still  greater 
genius,  a  still  greater  innovator,"  gives  the  pitch  for 
the  laughing  chorus.  The  Philistine  then  feels  quite 
safe  in  his  course.  Now,  the  Italians,  to  this  very  day, 
do  not  assign  to  their  idol  Rossini  a  niche  among  the 
gifted  consummators,  but  set  him  in  the  forefront  of 
intrepid  pioneers.  Quite  aside  from  this  fact,  around 
1870    there    was    certainly    no    Italian    who    imagined 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        243 

instituting  any  comparison  whatsoever  between  Wagner's 
talent  and  Rossini's.  "If  even  Rossini,  that  genius  of 
geniuses,  permits  himself  to  poke  fun  at  Wagner,  there's 
surely  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't" — so  the  Italian  Phi- 
listine may  have  thought. 

It  availed  nothing  that  Rossini,  the  great  musician, 
gourmet,  and  wit,  denied  in  a  Paris  newspaper  the 
authorship  of  the  scurvy  jokes  about  Wagner,  com- 
plaining bitterly  of  the  "friends"  who  launched  their 
expectorations  under  his  name,  or  that,  in  a  letter  to 
Filippi,  he  vehemently  expressed  his  contempt  for  all 
sputasentenze  (phrasespitters).  The  witticisms  pursued 
their  tranquil  course  as  watchwords,  and  everybody 
who,  either  from  conviction  or  for  business  reasons, 
chose  to  take  up  arms  for  Italian  opera,  still  rallied, 
as  before,  to  Rossini  as  their  standard-bearer.  But 
when  the  Philistine  thinks  himself  in  the  right,  he  grows 
brutal,  and  only  awaits  a  favorable  opportunity  to  give 
free  rein  to  his  brutality.  Such  an  opportunity  was 
afforded  the  Milanese  when  Arrigo  Boito's  Mefistofele 
was  brought  out  at  La  Scala  in  1868.  Every  one  knew 
that  Boito  possessed  talent.  But  they  also  knew  that 
the  youthful  maestro  had  been  in  Germany,  that  he 
was  not  only  familiar  with  Germany  and  the  German 
masters,  but  revered  and  studied  them,  and  had  learned 
much  from  them.  They  held  him  for  a  "Zukunfts- 
musiker,"  a  follower  of  Wagner.  The  time  was  ripe 
for  a  "horrible  example."  The  Italian  music  of  the 
future  should  be  destroyed  root  and  branch.  Had 
Boito's  work  engendered  tedium  and  displeasure, 
because  its  style  was  unwonted  to  the  Italians — at 
that  time  they  had  never  heard  a  note  of  Wagner — it 
would  have  been  a  fiasco  like  so  many  other  unsuccessful 
works.  But  the  scandalous  tumults  which  arose  in 
opposition  to  Mefistofele  were  more  than  the  objection 
of  the  audiences  to  a  neophyte's  work;  they  signified 
more  than  a  failure;  they  proclaimed  the  unmistakable 


244 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

intent  of  the  Milanese  to  take  full  vengeance  on  the 
Reform  Party.  Not  even  the  open  letter  addressed  by 
Giulio  Ricordi,  in  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  (1868,  No. 
11),  to  his  friend  Boito,  can  gloss  over  this  fact.  Would 
Ricordi  now — since  the  success  of  Mefistofele,  for  which 
the  way  was  prepared  by  that  of  Lohengrin  and  Tanri- 
hduser  in  Italy,  has  been  steadily  increasing  for  twenty 
years,  so  that  every  small  town  longs  to  applaud  the 
work — care  to  repeat  his  former  closing  sentence: 
"I  venture  the  unvarnished  assertion  that  you  have  a 
future  as  a  poet,  as  an  admirable  writer,  but  never  as 
a  composer  of  music-dramas"? 

After  the  brutal  assault  on  Mefistofele  at  La  Scala, 
the  naturalization  of  Wagner  seemed  to  be  put  off  for 
years.  To  be  sure,  Milan  appeared  agreeably  surprised 
when  the  Societa  del  Quartetto  brought  out  the  over- 
tures to  Rienzi,  The  Flying  Dutchman,  and  Tannhduser. 
People  had  expected  "scientific,"  impenetrable,  gray, 
gloomy  Northern  mist-woven  fabrics,  and  were  suddenly 
confronted  with  a  language  of  tones  whose  beauties 
were  manifest  even  to  Italians,  without  great  mental 
effort.  The  Gazzetta  itself  was  taken  aback.  Still,  it 
made  shift  to  turn  the  scales  against  Wagner.  It  said 
(1869,  No.  19)  with  regard  to  the  overture  to  The 
Flying  Dutchman,  "This  is  realistic  music.  But  .... 
when  we  compare  it  with  the  examples  of  descriptive 
and  imitative  music  here  quoted  ('classico  temporale  del 
Barbiere  di  Siviglia,  la  tempesta  del  Rigoletto  e  la 
burrasca  nell'  Africana'),  it  must  be  admitted  that 
Rossini,  Verdi  and  Meyerbeer  obtained  the  same  effects 
with  simpler  means.  Wagner  has  done  both  good  and 
harm  to  art.  He  ought  to  have  been  the  continuator 
of  the  Germanic  school,  which  Meyerbeer  popularized 
with  his  immortal  works.  But  we  find  in  Wagner, 
side  by  side  with  wonderfully  beautiful  ideas,  a  desperate, 
ineffectual  striving.  Is  this  a  striving  toward  the  music- 
drama?    No !  it  is  the  toil  of  a  destroyer.    Such  a  striving 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        245 

is  destructive  of  idealism,  without  which  Art  is  but  an 
empty  word." 

As  aforesaid,  despite  such  piecemeal  successes  the 
naturalization  of  the  music  of  the  future  was  endangered. 
For  the  Societa  del  Quartetto  had  a  vastly  different 
audience  from  that  of  La  Scala. 

True  enough,  reports  were  circulated  that  Rienzi,  or 
Tannhduser,  or  Lohengrin,  was  to  be  produced  at  Florence 
and  in  La  Scala.  But  they  were  dismissed  by  the 
Gazzetta  to  the  realm  of  "fantasticherie"  (1869,  No.  38) ; 
and  not  until  the  rumors  became  persistent  did  it  join, 
willy-nilly,  in  the  cry,  "Dated  del  Lohengrin!  dateci  del 
Rienzi!"  (1870,  p.  212).  But  with  this  very  peculiar  and 
very  Italian  reason  for  doing  so  (in  1868,  p.  307):  "II 
giudizio  italiano  pronunciera  inappellabilmente  per  le 
gemonie  o  per  l'apoteosi !"  (The  judgmentof  Italy  will  pro- 
nounce the  irrevocable  sentence — scaffold  or  apotheosis!) 

Just  then  (1871)  Bologna  stepped  forward  from  the 
subordinate  position  she  had  hitherto  occupied  in  the 
musical  life  of  the  nineteenth  century.  "Bononia  docet" 
the  ancient  motto  runs;  and  this  proud  phrase  should 
now  be  suited  with  a  deed.  Rumors  arose,  at  first  in 
French  papers,  that  Bologna  la  dotta,  Bologna  la  grassa, 
proposed  to  venture  a  production  of  Wagner's  Lohengrin. 
The  mistrust  and  astonishment  awakened  by  these 
rumors  gave  way  to  an  intense  excitement  when  they 
began  to  assume  substantial  form,  and  reports  of  the 
actual  commencement  of  rehearsals  were  received.  Tales 
were  spread  abroad  of  unimagined  difficulties,  fantastic 
scenery,  wondrous  strains  as  of  Paradise,  lured  from 
the  orchestra  by  the  magic  wand  of  the  all-inspiring 
and  enkindling  Angelo  Mariani; — and  so  forth.  From 
every  nook  and  corner  of  Italy  the  most  notable  critics 
announced  their  attendance  at  the  premiere.  The  per- 
formance promised  to  be  a  congress  of  all  the  notables 
of  musical  Italy.  In  a  word,  a  positive  Lohengrin  fever 
attacked  both  musicians  and  dilettanti. 


246 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

On  November  the  1st,  1871,  Lohengrin  made  his 
triumphal  entry  in  the  Teatro  Communale  at  Bologna. 
Wagner's  victory  was  complete.  The  Italians  possibly 
found  the  second  act  a  trifle  tedious,  but  the  first  and 
third  roused  them  to  unexampled  acclamations.  The 
Lohengrin  frenzy  invaded  the  very  streets.  One  of 
the  reigning  beauties  of  Bologna  appeared  in  public 
wearing  a  hat  d  la  Lohengrin,  the  noted  perfumer  Bor- 
tolotti  sold  his  Essenza  Lohengrin  like  hot  cakes,1  and 
the  City  Council  of  Bologna  presented  Wagner  with  the 
freedom  of  the  city.  Even  Hans  von  Biilow  was  so 
swept  along  with  the  general  enthusiasm,2  that  he  came 
near  representing  this  production  of  Lohengrin  as  an 
unequalled  and  not  to  be  equalled  model-performance.3 
The  open  letter  written  by  Wagner  to  Arrigo  Boito4 
served  to  throw  the  good  Bolognese  quite  off  their 
balance.  Thenceforward  they  were  Wagnerians  "on 
principle,"  and  took  it  upon  themselves  to  make  their 
home  city  the  Wagner  centre  of  Italy. 

Now,  whether  this  production  was  really  an  ideal 
one — further  on,  in  a  detailed  and  connected  description 
I  can  and  must  prove  that  it  was  not — or  had  its  weak 
points,  the  following  facts  are  beyond  question:  Angelo 
Mariani  (1822-1873)  had  finally  established  his  fame 
as  the  foremost  conductor  of  Italy,  taking  rank  along- 
side of  men  like  Biilow;  secondly,  by  an  exhibition  of 
superhuman  ability  and  will-power,  of  discretion  and 
genius,  he  brought  about  a  really  brilliant  performance, 
whatever  its  shortcomings;  thirdly,  he  made  a  master- 
work,  which  was  foreign  in  every  aspect,  easy  of  com- 
prehension to  his  compatriots,  and  thus,  fourthly,  broke 
through  the  "ring"  of  the  Chauvinists  (granting  that 

iGazzetta  Musicale  di  Mialano,  1871,  No.  50. 

*  See  his  Collected  Writings. 

3  One  of  the  eccentric  capers  of  which  he  was  so  fond.  As  early  as  1876  he 
took  occasion  to  express  himself  much  more  coolly. 

*L'Arpa,  Giornale  letterario,  etc.  (Bologna,  1871,  No.  12),  printed  it. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        247 

he  himself  had  taken  up  Lohengrin  at  first  less  from 
enthusiasm — as  some  say — than  to  show  Filippo  Filippi 
that  even  an  Italian  was  capable  of  interpreting  Wagner). 
Fifthly,  the  Wagnerians  had  at  last  won  a  practical 
musician  as  their  strategical  leader,  and  Wagner's  art 
had  found,  in  Bologna,  a  point  of  vantage  on  Italian 
territory.  Sixthly,  the  movement  for  or  against  Wagner's 
influence  on  Italian  opera  could  finally  be  led  into 
practical  channels,  since  people  began  to  know  his 
works  through  their  actual  performance.  And  so,  with 
all  this,  a  new  force  furthering  the  uplift  of  Italian 
musicmaking  in  the  sphere  of  opera,  too,  had  been 
unloosed. 

Of  course,  no  ground  was  gained  without  fighting. 
The  Gazzetta  Musicale,  in  particular,  was  by  no  means 
disarmed.  True,  it  admitted  the  success  of  Lohengrin 
in  various  articles,  but  sought  to  belittle  it,  cutting  the 
strangest  capers  in  the  attempt  to  degrade  the  work  to 
the  level  of  mediocrity.  And  it  did  gain  a  point  (with 
the  help  of  other  periodicals,  like  the  Pungolo),  after 
further  successes  of  Lohengrin  in  Florence  under  Mariani, 
by  encompassing  the  total  failure  of  the  work  at  Milan 
in  1873.  The  riots  provoked  by  Tannhduser  in  the 
Paris  Opera  were  almost  eclipsed  by  the  brutality  and 
insane  fury  of  the  audience  at  La  Scala.  However, 
Wagner  had  broken  through  the  dam;  he  had  effected 
an  entrance  and  was  still  advancing,  and  such  mishaps 
did  not  indicate  the  defeat  of  his  art,  but  the  confounding 
of  his  opponent's  judgment.  It  would  take  too  long 
to  follow  his  triumphal  progress  through  all  its  stages 
down  to  the  present;  the  earliest  were  these:  Lohengrin 
(Turin,  1877;  Rome,  1878,  1880;  Venice  and  Genoa, 
1880),  Tannhduser  (Bologna,  1882),  The  Flying  Dutch- 
man (Bologna,  1877),  Rienzi  (Venice,  1874).  Wagner's 
occasional  sojourns  in  Italy  did  their  part  in  proving 
him  not  to  be  the  Italianophobe  as  which  he  had  been 
represented  for  a  time.     We  may  also  mention  Angelo 


248 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Neumann's  Nibelung  Cycles  in  the  'eighties,  the  Tristan 
performances  at  Bologna  in  1888  under  G.  Martucci, 
and  the  founding  of  the  Societa  del  Wagner  (Bayreuther- 
Zweigverein) ,  which  undertook,  by  means  of  annual 
Wagner  Concerts,  to  diffuse  and  promote  a  better 
understanding  of  the  master.  Then  came  the  Meister- 
singer  fiasco  at  Milan  (1889).  No  wonder;  for  since 
the  unhappy  Lohengrin  affair  Wagner  had  been  laid  on 
the  shelf  for  good  and  all.  How  could  a  public  who 
protested  against  Lohengrin  be  expected  to  enjoy  Die 
Meister singer?!  But,  early  in  the  'nineties,  Ricordi 
bought  out  Lucca's  publishing  house,  including  (of 
course)  Wagner's  works ;  and  since  then  they — especially 
Lohengrin  and  Tannhduser — have  spread  over  all  Italy, 
into  every  provincial  town.  In  1898,  for  instance, 
Tannhduser  was  given  in  cities  like  Padua  and  Piacenza, 
and  Lohengrin  in  Mantua,  Padua,  Pavia  and  Palermo. 
Not  invariably,  we  admit,  to  full  houses,  and  not  always 
with  success! 

This  leads  up  to  the  question,  Is  there,  in  Italy,  a 
genuine  understanding  for  Wagner?  What  has  been 
the  influence  of  his  works  on  Italian  opera?  Can  they, 
and  ought  they,  to  have  a  profound  effect  on  Italian 
composers?  A  triad  of  questions  which  are  intimately 
related  to  each  other  by  nature. 

Evil  tongues1  have  asserted  that  not  even  the  Bolo- 
gnese  Lohengrin  had  its  origin  in  purely  artistic  motives. 
Everybody  knows  that  an  approved  Italian  stagione 
must  offer  at  least  one  novelty.  Now,  the  assertion  is 
made  that  it  was  not  so  much  the  Wagner  enthusiasm 
of  Mayor  Cesarini  as  far  more  material  considerations 
which  caused  the  selection  of  Lohengrin.  Aula,  then 
recently  composed,  would  have  been  the  first  choice, 
but  other  cities  had  already  seized  upon  it,  and  the 
good  Bolognese  would  hardly  have  accepted  a  second- 

1  Hans  von  Biilow  (1876). — E.  Panzacchi,  "Lettere  due  a  proposito  del  Tann- 
hauser"  (1872). 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        249 

hand  production.  Evil  tongues  likewise  sneeringly  allude 
to  the  unheard-of  success  of  Gobatti's  Goths — a  work 
which  Hans  von  Biilow  called  a  monstrosity — and  add 
that  Gobatti,  precisely  like  Wagner,  was  presented 
with  the  freedom  of  the  city.  Gobatti — Wagner!!  The 
skeptics  also  call  attention  to  the  great  majority  of 
cases  in  which  the  Italians,  at  the  performance  of 
Wagner's  works,  rush  frantically  into  the  theatre  on 
first  nights,  but  on  the  following  evenings,  for  fear  of 
ennui,  stay  at  home  or  go  to  the  cafe. 

Furthermore,  it  is  said  that  the  comprehension  of 
Wagner  by  the  Bolognese  is  quite  out  of  proportion  to 
their  self-conceit.  They  are  fond  of  criticizing  Bayreuth, 
as  if  everything  done  there  were  the  veriest  botchery. 
Given  such  conditions,  it  can  readily  be  seen  why  the 
Societa  del  Wagner — just  because  it  is,  so  to  speak,  an 
offshoot  of  Bayreuth — should  gradually  pine  away. 
But  if  the  Bolognese  public  feels  (in  the  depths  of  its 
soul)  bored  by  Wagner,  how  can  the  other  towns  know 
what  to  make  of  him? 

And  yet,  in  Bologna  as  well  as  in  Rome,  Turin, 
Venice,  Naples,  Florence,  where  Wagner  is  much 
studied  and  played,  there  are  plenty  of  people  whose 
interest  in  him  is  not  simply  a  combination  of  curiosity, 
fashion  and  parochial  vanity.  One  should  not,  however, 
expect  of  the  average  Italian  a  profound  understanding 
of  Wagner;  indeed,  it  is  very  questionable  whether  "the 
German"  in  general  feels  himself  at  home  on  the  heights, 
or  in  the  depths  (as  you  will),  of  Tristan  and  the  Ring. 
Wagner's  Northern  world  of  the  sagas  allures  the  Italian 
merely  as  an  adventurous  excursion.  Through  it  all 
he  will  feel  homesick  for  the  dramma  umano,  the  stage- 
play  of  every-day  life.  Least  of  all  will  he  familiarize 
himself  with  Wagner's  notion  of  making  the  opera 
something  more  than  a  work  which  causes  time  to 
pass  agreeably  or,  in  certain  cases,  excites  his  enthusiasm. 
A  plunge,  as  it  were,  into  a  spring  of  spiritual  healing 


250 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

has  no  charms  for  him.  Rossini,  with  striking  acumen, 
sums  up  the  musical  ideal  of  his  countrymen  in  the 
words,  'II  diletto  dev'  essere  la  base  e  lo  scopo  di  quest' 
arte.     Melodia  semplice — Ritmo  chiaro."  * 

Some  one  may  adduce  Die  Meistersinger  as  a  veritable 
dramma  umano.  That  it  certainly  is,  but  one  conceived 
and  created  by  a  German  for  Germans,  itself  German 
to  the  core.  In  this  very  opera  the  critic  is  confronted 
with  the  gulf  set  for  evermore  between  Wagner  and  the 
people  of  Italy.  But  this  is  no  reason  for  excluding 
Wagner  from  the  Italian  stage. 

No  art  is  more  national  than  music.  But  neither  is 
any  other  better  adapted  for  international  exchange; 
and  with  regard  to  musical  art,  as  in  all  else,  the  dictum 
holds  good,  "Isolation  means  stagnation."  To  this 
plain  assertion  of  E.  Panzacchi,'2  the  great  orator,  poet 
and  critic,  but  slight  objection  can  be  offered.  However, 
he  goes  on  to  prove,  as  the  theoretical  disputations 
toward  the  beginning  of  the  'seventies  had  already 
abundantly  established,  that  Wagner's  influence  over 
the  Italian  opera,  the  Italian  music-drama,  would  extend 
only  to  extrinsic  elements  of  form; — this,  despite  the 
fact  that  Panzacchi  is  a  zealous  admirer  of  Wagner. 
Even  an  arch-Wagnerite  like  Filippi  was  unable  to 
avoid  this  conclusion.  Neither  did  such  sober-minded 
anti-Wagnerites  as  Platania,  Rufa,  Mazzucato,  Biaggi, 
Fr.  d'Arcais,  Sassaroli,  Florimo,  etc.,  in  any  way  oppose 
the  admittance  of  Wagner  into  the  musical  life  of  Italy; 
they  rather  emphasized  the  essential  difference  between 
his  nature  and  that  of  the  Southlander,  thereby  repu- 
diating the  utility  and  the  possibility  of  intimately 
blending  the  German  opera  with  the  Italian.  But  for 
the  most  part  they  made  the  mistake  of  drawing  a  line 
of   delimitation   between   the   talents   of   German   and 


1  Cf.  his  letter  to  Lauro  Rossi,  June  21, 1868,  published  in  F.  Florimo's  "Riccardo 
Wagner  ed  i  Wagneristi"  (1863,  Chap.  II). 

2  Op.  cit. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        251 

Italian.  In  the  German  pigeonhole  they  bestowed 
Harmony;  in  the  Italian,  Melody.  Luigi  Torchi — whose 
brilliant  essay  "Riccardo  Wagner"  Undeniably  towers 
high  above  the  luxuriant  growths  of  Italian  Wagner 
literature,  and  occupies  a  commanding  position  among 
publications  of  any  sort  concerning  Wagner — was  the 
first  partially  to  straighten  out  the  above  warped  axiom: 
"La  musica  italiana  e  essenzialmente  cantante,  quella 
dei  tedeschi  espressiva."  For  the  rest,  his  600-page 
volume  arrives  at  the  same  conclusion  as  the  writers 
mentioned  above,  namely,  that  Wagner  can  influence 
Italian  music  only  as  a  rejuvenator,  not  as  a  model; — 
a  conclusion  founded,  in  his  case,  on  a  refreshing 
insight  into  the  German  character  (Torchi  studied  for 
several  years  under  Reinecke),  on  a  surprising  familiarity 
with  the  writings  of  the  German  romanticists,  and  on 
his  biographico-psychological  study  of  Wagner's  art  as 
a  whole. 

Time  has  already  pronounced  its  verdict.  Who  are 
the  Italian  disciples  of  Wagner?  Disregarding  Boito, 
obstinately  silent  since  his  youthful  opera  Mefistofele, 
and  the  "bandmaster-music"  of  Mancinelli  and  others, 
only  A.  Catalani  and  A.  Franchetti  can  be  mentioned 
as  gifted  aweniristi.  But  for  all  that,  the  latest  works 
of  Verdi,  and  those  of  Puccini,  Mascagni,  Leoncavallo, 
Giordano,  and  others,  discover  a  method  unquestionably 
different  from  the  ruminant  style  of  the  "ever-shallower 
Italian  opera."  The  construction  has  gained  in  unity 
and  conciseness,  the  orchestra  has  a  more  psychological 
cast,  the  melody  is  more  modern.  And  wherefrom  is 
all  this?  Not  from  Wagner,  but  from  the  eclectic  opera 
of  the  French. 

Rossini's  Tell  already  confesses  this  source.  The  same 
is  writ  large  on  every  page  of  Verdi's  works  in  his 
transition-period  (prior  to  Aida),  especially  Don  Carlos. 
Indeed,  his  successorship  to  Meyerbeer  was  interpreted 

1  Bologna,  1890;  Zanichelli. 


252 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

as  in  his  favor  by  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  (1867,  No.  27). 
The  'sixties  witnessed  the  further  importation  of  Gounod. 
"Tutti  fausteggiarono,"  writes  d'Arcais  in  the  "Nuova 
Antologia"  (1890,  p.  523)  of  that  epoch.  After  Gounod 
came  Bizet,  and  finally  Massenet,  whom  we  may  con- 
fidently term  the  accoucheur  of  the  veristi.  Not  one  of 
Puccini's  or  Leoncavallo's  operas  can  delude  us  into 
seeking  any  other  origin;  not  even  Mascagni's  Iris, 
despite  suspicious  endeavors  to  "Wagnerize." 

And  Verdi?  To-day  he  stands  quite  apart.  Having 
broken  away  from  his  earlier  models,  to  a  certain  extent, 
in  Aida,  he  entered  upon  the  years  of  self-criticism,  of 
theoretical  problems,  of  a  purposeful  building-up  of  the 
Italian  opera  of  the  future.  Verdi,  in  his  last  period, 
is  frequently  termed  a  stylistic  follower  of  Wagner. 
That  is,  I  think,  quite  erroneous.  For  he  could  hardly 
have  had  more  than  a  very  slight  acquaintance  with 
Wagner's  music  before  finishing  Aida;  and  does  Otello, 
or  Falstaff,  really  betray  a  continuation  of  Wagner's 
style?  Shall  we  not  come  nearer  the  mark  in  considering 
that  these  works  also  bear  a  distant  relationship  to  the 
French  opera? 

After  Aida,  Verdi  unquestionably  underwent  a  trans- 
formation. Otherwise,  his  creative  temperament  would 
not  have  permitted  a  silence  of  fifteen  years.  Now, 
even  Verdi  could  not  close  his  eyes  to  the  fact  that  a 
new  era  had  set  in.  Lohengrin,  to  which  he  listened 
from  the  rear  of  a  box  on  its  fourth  evening  in  Bologna,1 
probably  enlightened  him  completely  on  that  score. 
Later  he  doubtless  studied  carefully  not  only  this  opera, 
but  the  German  classics  in  general.2  Remember,  that 
during  this  time  his  string-quartet  appeared,  but  no 
opera.  This  is  significant.  He  felt  that  the  music  of 
his  nation  needed  new  paths.     But  where  should  they 

iC/.  "L'Arpa,"  1871,  No.  11. 

2  Marie  Wieck,  visiting  him  in  1878,  found  "The  Well-Tempered  Clavichord" 
on  his  reading-desk.     (Cf.  the  "Allgem.  Musik-Zeitung.") 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        253 

start?  From  Wagner?  Most  assuredly  not.  His 
instinct  must  have  warned  him  against  that.  Or  can 
we  rate  his  critical  faculty  lower  than  that  of  dozens 
of  mediocre  writers?  And  read  the  opinion  he  pro- 
nounces on  Wagner:1 

Wagner  belongs  among  the  very  greatest  ones.  In  his  music — 
however  strange  (always  excepting  Lohengrin)  it  may  seem  to  our 
susceptibilities — there  is  life,  blood  and  nerve.  In  his  art  he 
makes  love  of  the  fatherland  felt  in  a  truly  wonderful  way.  He 
carried  his  fetish-worship  to  such  lengths  as  to  invent  music 
according  to  a  program  settled  in  advance.  This  was  hurtful  to 
him.  And  after  all,  it  was  not  he  who  wrought  the  mischief,  but 
his  imitators! 

No  one  could  write  thus,  who  beheld  his  own  and 
his  nation's  salvation  in  the  stylistic  continuation  of 
Wagner.  On  the  other  hand,  his  true  meaning  is 
apparent  when  we  compare  the  above  with  Verdi's 
letter  of  Jan.  5,  1871,  to  F.  Florimo.2 

The  music  of  the  future  causes  me  no  alarm.  I  should  have 
said  to  the  students  (I  mean,  if  it  had  been  possible  for  me  to 
accept  the  proffered  position  as  Director  of  the  Conservatory  at 
Naples):  Practise  the  Fugue  steadily  and  perse veringly,  till 
you  weary  of  it,  till  the  hand  feels  quite  strong  and  free  and  has 
gained  full  mastery  over  the  notes.  .  .  .  Study  Palestrina  and  a 
few  of  his  contemporaries.  Then  skip  over  to  Marcello,  and  pay 
special  attention  to  the  recitative.  Attend  but  few  performances 
of  modern  operas,  and  do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  dazzled  by  their 
manifold  harmonic  and  orchestral  beauties,  or  by  the  diminished 
seventh-chord,  our  very  last  resort — why,  we  cannot  compose 
four  measures  without  bringing  in  half  a  dozen  of  these  sevenths! 
.  .  .  .In  any  event,  do  not  increase  the  host  of  present-day  imi- 
tators and  decadents,  who  seek,  seek,  seek,  and  (Heaven  be 
praised!)  never  find  anything.  In  singing,  I  should  like  to  see 
the  old-time  studies  combined  with  modern  declamation.  .  .  . 
Go  back  to  the  old  ways — that  will  be  progress! 3 

For  my  own  part,  there  is  no  doubt  that  Verdi  (to- 
gether with  Boito)  has  actually  translated  into  deeds 

iMonaldi,  "Giuseppe  Verdi,  1839-1889"  (Turin,  Bocca,  1899). 

2  Florimo,  "Riccardo  Wagner  ed  i  Wagneristi"     (Ancona,  Morelli,  1883). 

3  Read,  besides,  his  letter  to  Hans  von  BUlow  of  April  14,  1892  (Gazz.  Musicale, 
1892,  32):  "Wagner  very  rightly  asserts  that  all  ought  to  maintain  the  peculiarities 
of  their  nationality!  You  are  happy  indeed  to  be  still  the  sons  of  Bach!...  And 
we?...  We  too,  the  sons  of  Palestrina,  once  had  a  great  School — and  our  own! 
To-day  it  has  become  a  bastard,  and  threatens  collapse!  Could  we  only  begin 
over  again!" 


254  SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

these  words  on  his  continuation  of  the  Italian  classicists. 
In  Othello  and  Falstaff  are  to  be  seen  the  lordly  foun- 
dation-columns of  a  future  purely  Italian  opera,  and  in 
their  presence  all  the  vulgar  and  sickly-sweet  spot-cash 
fabrications  of  the  Frenchified  veristi  are  as  naught. 
Yet — what  a  tragedy!  Only  at  the  close  of  his  career, 
when  the  thoughts  no  longer  gush  forth  in  superabundant 
overflow,  does  the  Nestor — and,  at  the  same  time,  the 
most  youthful — of  the  maestri  succeed  in  crowning  his 
lifework,  in  taking  the  momentous  step  into  the  future, 
in  attuning  his  spirit  to  a  novel  form,  and  in  becoming 
for  the  Italians  what  Richard  Wagner  was  to  the  Ger- 
mans. Aida,  Othello  and  Falstaff  are  a  legacy  bequeathed 
by  Giuseppe  Verdi  to  his  nation.  Will  the  nation 
revere  it? 

Thus  the  German  opera,  including  Wagner,  has  not 
had  the  influence  on  the  transformation  of  Italian  opera 
that  may  have  been  expected.  What  musical  life  in 
Italy  actually  owes  it  is  rather  an  enrichment  of  the 
repertory.  Quite  otherwise  with  the  German  chamber- 
music  and  symphony;  these  have  effected  a  revolution 
from  the  ground  up.  They  filled  a  sensible  void  in 
Italy's  musical  activities.  The  earlier  neglect  of  the 
German  classicists  gradually  gave  way  to  a  thorough 
study  of  them,  and  nowadays  Italy  would  seem  to  be 
suffering  from  an  overdose  of  Germanism.  To  say  the 
least,  the  Italians  do  not  favor  their  own  instrumental 
classics  (from  about  1650  to  1750)  with  the  attention 
which  is  requisite  in  order  to  bring  about  a  renascence 
of  a  strongly  marked  Italian  style  of  chamber-music. 

The  phrase  "complete  ignorance"  must,  like  all  such 
general  assertions,  be  qualified  by  an  "almost."  But 
isolated  performances  of  the  Beethoven  symphonies — 
as  a  curiosity  the  "Schlacht  bei  Vittoria"1  may  be  men- 
tioned^— or  passably  well-arranged  programs  like  those 
of  the  Societa  Filarmonica  (Milan),  the  Collegio  Filar- 

1  Giorgetti's  letter  to  Pantologo,  Florence,  1828. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        255 

monico  Fiorentino  (1847),  the  violin  virtuoso  Luigi 
Sessa  (La  Scala,  March,  1860),  and  some  others,  were 
oases  in  the  desert.  And  what  do  they  signify  in  com- 
parison with  the  well-attested  fact,1  that  not  until  1862 
was  a  string-quartet  of  Cherubini's  publicly  performed 
for  the  first  time  in  Italy! — at  Florence,  Nov.  23,  1862! 
But  the  oases  are  multiplying,  so  that  to-day  one  should 
rather  speak,  in  the  reverse  sense,  of  scattered  deserts 
in  a  fruitful  land. 

Zuliani  says,  in  Chap.  Ill  of  his  above-mentioned 
work  (i.  e.,  in  1878): 

Twenty  years  ago,  pure  instrumental  music  was  a  thing  un- 
known in  Rome;  ....  a  few  maestri  cultivated  the  German 
classics.  .  .  .  The  pianists  played  nothing  but  opera-music  in 
poor  arrangements.  .  .  .  Tullio  Ramacciotti,  an  excellent  vio- 
linist, a  highly  educated  and  progressive-minded  artist,  was  the 
first  to  venture  upon  the  unpopular  mission  of  inviting  the  public 
to  attend  quartet-soirees — with  slight  success;  some  few  foreigners 
came  to  them;  Roman  society,  even  the  liberally  educated,  felt 
a  holy  horror  when  anybody  so  much  as  mentioned  classical 
instrumental  music.    ...  It  was  a  thankless  apostolate. 

This  was  in  the  year  185 1.2  A  change  came  when 
Franz  Liszt  took  hold  of  the  matter,  giving  advice  out 
of  his  abundant  experience.  And  when  Sgambati, 
together  with  Pinelli  (fresh  from  his  studies  with  Joa- 
chim), threw  themselves  on  the  enemy,  the  breach  was 
finally  made.  But  at  what  sacrifices!  Sgambati  paid 
the  expenses,  out  of  his  own  pocket,  to  give  the  Romans 
their  first3  performance  of  a  Beethoven  symphony. 
Pinelli,  at  his  initial  orchestral  concert,  took  in  no  less 
than — fourteen  lire.  Out  of  these  fourteen  lire,  sixty 
musicians  were  to  be  paid!  Here  the  year  1870  again 
had  a  favorable  effect.    The  Queen  attended  the  chamber 

1C/.  Boccherini,  "Giornale  Musicale  per  la  Societa  del  Quartette"  Florence, 
1868,  p.  74;  "Gazz.  Mus.  di  Milano,"  1862,  No.  48. 

-  In  its  twelfth  number  of  that  year  the  Gazz.  Mus.  published  a  letter  from 
Rome  dated  March  15:  .  .  .  "On  Saturday,  the  15th,  the  instrumental  concerts 
are  to  begin  which  professors  Ramacciotti,  Angelini,  Costaggini  and  Orselli  will 
give  in  the  Teatro  Argentina.  In  each  of  these  concerts,  of  which  there  are  to 
be  thirteen,  three  compositions  will  be  performed,  selected  from  works  by  Beet- 
hoven, Mozart,  Haydn,  Hummel,  Spohr,  Onslow,  etc." 

»C/.  Zuliani,  "Roma  Musicale,"  1878. 


256 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

and  symphony  concerts,  and  drew  after  her  a  large 
part  of  the  well-to-do  and  patrician  circles.  Neither 
should  the  valuable  influence  of  the  German  ambassador, 
Baron  von  Keudell,  and  his  spouse,  remain  unnoticed. 
But  the  Societa  Orchestrale  Romana — founded  by  the 
brothers  Ettore  and  Decio  Pinelli,  with  the  aid  of  the 
musicians  Turino,  Gozi,  the  two  Monachesi,  Paolinelli, 
Jacobacci,  De  Leva,  and  others — had  a  prolonged 
struggle  against  the  phalanx  of  those  who  were  actively 
or  passively  opposed  to  instrumental  music,  or  anta- 
gonized German  music  because  it  was  German,  before 
the  Society  was  firmly  established.  Not  to  mention  all 
the  personal  and  managerial  wranglings  which  always 
accompany  the  inception  of  such  enterprises. 

We  have  noticed  Rome  first  of  all.  However,  Florence 
once  again  preceded  the  Eternal  City.  Prof.  Jefte 
Sbolci  has  already  been  mentioned,  in  the  paragraphs 
on  Choral  Music,  as  the  founder  and  director  of  the 
Societa  per  lo  Studio  della  Musica  Classica.  Now,  as 
this  Society,  like  almost  all  such  associations  in  Italy, 
cultivated  symphony  and  chamber-music  side  by  side 
with  choral  singing,  it  is  only  proper  that  the  names  of 
Sbolci  and  the  Duke  of  San  Clemente,  who  vigorously 
supported  him,  should  receive  conspicuous  notice  here. 
But  a  genuine  revulsion  did  not  set  in  until  the  'sixties. 
About  the  year  1860  certain  private  individuals — for 
example,  Basevi,  Prof.  Giorgetti,  Maglioni,  Giovacchini, 
the  maestri  Kraus,  Ducci,  and  Mmes.  Capoquadri  and 
Sandryk  nee  Cattermole — were  accustomed  to  have 
chamber-music  played  in  their  salons  before  invited 
guests.1  Not  long  thereafter,  all  these  elements  com- 
bined to  form  a  real  Societa  del  Quartette  The  first 
matinee  took  place  on  Oct.  14,  1861.  Professors  F. 
Consolo,  Bruni,  M.  Asso  and  Jefte  Sbolci  did  their 
best  to  render  the  Inaugural  Concert,  which  included 

1  "Boccherini,"  introductory  article,  I,  1,  1862;  later  "Materiali"  (On  the 
History  of  the  Soc.  del  Quartetto,  1868-69). 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        257 

works  by  Haydn,  Mozart  and  Beethoven,  fully  worthy 
of  the  occasion.  The  Society  also  had  the  happy  idea 
to  found  a  periodical  for  the  benefit  of  its  members. 
On  May  1,  1862,  appeared  the  first  number  of  the 
"Boccherini,"  which  ceased  publication  in  1883,  after  a 
glorious  career.  Abraham  Basevi,  a  lawyer,  and  a 
musical  writer  of  no  mean  importance,1  took  hold  of 
matters  even  more  practically,  if  possible.  He  instituted 
a  concorso  for  string-quartets,  offering  300  lire  as  first 
prize  and  100  (later  200)  lire  as  second  prize  for  the  best 
quartet  written  by  an  Italian  or  any  composer  educated 
in  Italy.  The  winners  of  this  concorso  were  the  celebrated 
double-bass  player  Giovanni  Bottesini  and  F.  Anichini, 
among  twenty- two  competitors.  Basevi,  however,  not 
content  with  aiding  the  cause  only  once,  renewed  his 
concorso  annually  until  the  end  of  the  decade,  but 
made  it  international.  From  the  very  beginning  the 
aspirants  were  quite  numerous;  in  1862,  seventeen 
quartets  were  handed  in;  in  1863,  twenty-three;  in 
1864,  twenty-nine;  etc.  Not  all  native  composers  were 
as  fortunate  as  Giulio  Ricordi  (better  known,  as  a 
composer,  under  the  pen-name  of  Burgmein),  to  whom 
the  second  prize  was  awarded  in  1864.  But  precisely 
the  circumstance  that  foreigners  like  W.  Langhans, 
Bungert,  G.  H.  Witt,  and  others,  gained  the  victory, 
must  have  acted  as  a  stimulus  to  the  Italians  to  perfect 
themselves  in  the  difficult  sphere  of  the  string-quartet. 
— Basevi  was,  all  in  all,  the  moving  spirit  and  the  final 
resort  in  time  of  need.  Thus,  when  the  government 
requisitioned  the  Sola  del  buon  umore,  where  the  matinees 
were  held,  for  school-purposes,  and  nobody  knew  where 
to  find  a  hall  for  the  concerts,  Basevi  at  once  made  up 
his  mind  to  offer  the  ground  floor  of  his  palace  for  the 
purpose.  Nor  was  this  all;  he  had  it  enlarged  and 
suitably  reconstructed  at  his  own  expense.     And  so,  in 

lCf.  "L'Armonia,  Organo  della  riforma  musicale  in  Italia"  (1856),  founded 
as  a  continuation  of  the  "Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Firenze."  Basevi's  noted  articles 
on  Verdi  are  found  in  the  second  annual  issue. 


258 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS   IN  MUSIC 

spite  of  a  few  juvenile  disorders,  the  Society  was  certainly 
favored  by  fortune.  It  gained  in  importance,  and  its 
fame  was  spread  far  beyond  the  confines  of  Italy  by  the 
Florentine  Quartet  (Jean  Becker). 

Some  other  associations,  such  as  the  Societa  Filar- 
monica  del  Quartetto  (under  Prince  Poniatowski) ,  were 
less  fortunate.  I  mention  its  really  tasteful  program 
for  1858  in  witness  to  its  well-doing  before  1860.  Later, 
however,  it  dragged  along  only  half  alive,  rebaptized 
itself  the  Societa  d'incoraggiamento  dell'  arte  musicale, 
and  preferred  to  navigate  shallower  waters. 

The  first  attempts  at  domesticating  orchestral  music 
were  equally  abortive  until  after  1870.  The  Reale 
Istituto  Musicale  vainly  sought  in  1863  to  establish 
periodical  popular  concerts  of  classical  instrumental 
music  similar  to  those  of  Pasdeloup  in  Paris.  Not 
before  May  17,  1867,  could  the  attempt  be  renewed — 
this  time  with  Mabellini  at  the  head  of  an  orchestra  of 
one  hundred  pieces.  But  this  attempt  also  failed;  not 
because  the  people  evinced  too  little  interest,  but 
"because  some  of  the  most  influential  professors  refused 
their  cooperation."  Nevertheless,  the  Societa  del  Quar- 
tetto inaugurated,  one  year  thereafter  (on  Feb.  28th), 
a  series  of  symphonic  concerts.  Their  Concerti  conferenze 
(lecture-concerts)  were  particularly  liked.  Besides, 
Basevi  was  again  promoting  the  movement  for  orchestral 
music  in  a  practical  manner;  the  Reale  Istituto  in  1866 
opened,  in  his  name,  a  concorso  for  an  overture  in  classical 
form,  with  the  result  that  forty-eight  works  were  sub- 
mitted. 

So  it  came,  that  an  animated  artistic  activity  developed 
in  Florence  from  the  separate  yet  kindred  action  of  the 
Societa  del  Quartetto,  the  Societa  Cherubini,  the  Soc. 
Filarmonica,  the  R.  Istituto  Musicale,  and  the  Societa 
Orchestrale  Fiorentina  (organized  later  under  Jefte 
Sbolci).  Nor  should  we  forget  Hans  von  Billow's 
artistic  contribution  during  his  Florentine  sojourn. 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        259 

Florence  had  no  lack  of  imitators.  The  quartet 
associations,  which,  as  will  have  been  noticed,  had  a 
much  wider  scope  than  their  titles  imply,  sprang  up 
everywhere  out  of  the  ground.  The  Florentine  Societa 
was  quickly  followed  by  others  in  Lucca,  Naples  (chiefly 
owing  to  E.  Krakamp),  Modena,  Milan,  Pisa,  Brescia, 
Turin,  and  other  towns. 

Turin  and  Milan  speedily  moved  up  abreast  of 
Florence.  To  be  sure,  it  is  not  wholly  easy  to  study 
the  historical  development  of  the  Milan  Societa  at  the 
source.  For  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  di  Milano  ceased 
to  appear  during  the  years  1862-5 — because  of  lack  of 
readers,  as  it  observed  in  the  last  number  for  1862.1 
(Thirty- two  subscribers  are  certainly  none  too  many!) 
Whoever  may  desire  to  write  the  history  of  the  musical 
conditions  then  obtaining,  must  resort  to  the  daily  press. 
This  course  presents  few  difficulties.  But  for  my  pur- 
pose it  would  seem  idle,  as  I  wish  to  furnish  only  a  few 
historical  data  in  order  to  demonstrate  a  growing 
tendency  in  Italian  musical  life. 

Luckily  the  "Boccherini"  likewise  took  note  of  the 
first  stirrings  of  life  in  the  Milan  Societa;  and  this 
latter  itself  established,  after  the  pattern  of  its  Florentine 
colleague,  a  periodical  of  its  own,  the  Giornale  della 
Societa  del  Quartetto  di  Milano,  edited  by  A.  Mazzucato. 
But  there  was  this  difference  between  the  two  periodicals : 
the  "Boccherini"  interested  itself  almost  exclusively  for 
absolute  music,  whereas  the  "Giornale"  devoted  very 
nearly  half  its  columns  to  the  contest  over  Wagner. 

On  June  29,  1864,  the  Societa  made  its  public  debut 
with  its  "primo  esperimento" — of  course,  with  a  classical 
program.  It  also  immediately  recognized  the  practical 
value  of  concorsi,  and  until  to-day  has  kept  up  the 
custom  of  instituting  one  or  more  annual  competitions 
for  prizes;  though  these  competitions  do  not  necessarily 
draw  out  really  important  works.     But  when   (as  in 

iSee  page  222  above. 


260 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

1864)  composers  of  the  type  of  A.  Bazzini  and  F.  Faccio, 
and  later  G.  Martucci  (piano  quintet!)  win  the  awards, 
it  must  be  admitted  that  the  Italians  displayed  keen 
insight  in  their  selection  of  the  works,  and  did  not  allow 
themselves  to  be  led  astray  by  grandiloquent  phrases 
and  academic  veneering. 

The  Milanese  Quartet,  from  the  outset,  purposefully 
divided  its  interest  between  chamber-music  and  the 
symphony.  This  was  not  difficult,  as  Milan  had  a 
superfluity  of  good  musicians.  Nevertheless,  and  al- 
though this  Societa1  numbered,  even  in  1867,  155  soci 
protettori,  28  soci  ordinari  and  45  soci  corrispondenti,  or 
230  in  all,  it  languished  for  some  years;  indeed,  for  a 
time  it  lay  as  in  a  trance.  Otherwise  the  Gazz.  Mus. 
(1887,  p.  123)  would  not  have  said:  "The  Societa  del 
Quartetto,  dormant  for  some  time,  is  at  present  giving 
signs  of  renewed  life,  thanks  to  the  exertions  of  its 
meritorious  president,  Count  Giorgio  Belgiojoso." 

All  in  all,  the  Gazzetta  generally  observed  a  friendly 
attitude  toward  the  Society,  though  once  in  a  while  it 
might  grumble  about  the  tendency  to  favor  German 
instrumental  music,  and  call  attention  to  sundry  obscure 
Italian  classicists  known  to  the  Gazzetta  itself  only  on 
paper. 

However,  the  united  efforts  of  the  Societa  and  the 
Conservatorio,  which  latter  did  a  great  deal  to  elevate 
the  Milanese  taste  by  means  of  its  artistic  saggi  (student- 
concerts),  helped  bridge  over  the  period  of  stagnation. 
In  the  middle  of  the  'seventies  Milan  was  already 
but  little  behind  most  of  the  northern  cities,  at  least  in 
the  quality  of  the  programs.  From  Haydn  down  to 
Raff,  Rubinstein  and  Wagner,  the  entire  literature  of 
the  Germans  was  presented  to  the  public.  The  Gazzetta 
Musicale,  which  as  late  as  1866  reproached  the  Floren- 
tines with  "concertomania"  because  of  their  handful  of 
concerts  (No.  34),  complained  in  1875   (No.   15)   that 

2  According  to  the  Gazz.  Mus.  di  Milano. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        261 

the  symphony  evenings  of  the  Milan  Societa  were  only 
three  or  four  in  number  yearly,  instead  of  at  least  twenty. 
Finally,  with  the  growing  membership  and  consequent 
increase  in  funds,  it  became  possible  to  engage  the  most 
famous  artists  on  either  side  of  the  Alps,  like  Rubin- 
stein, Piatti,  von  Biilow,  Saint-Saens,  Wilhelmj,  Joachim, 
etc. 

G.  Andreoli,  the  noted  pianist,  now  (in  1876)  entered 
the  arena  with  his  "Popular  Concerts" — a  series  of  six, 
on  an  average,  for  chamber  music,  and  as  many  for 
symphonic  works.  He  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  dis- 
concerted by  the  light  attendance,1  nor  did  he  "water" 
his  programs,  but  endeavored  to  carry  his  audiences  as 
far  as  Brahms  (1879,  Bb  major  symphony).  And  after 
the  La  Scala  orchestra  and  that  of  Turin  had  won  high 
renown  in  Paris  in  1878,  the  local  pride  of  the  Milanese 
attained  to  such  a  pitch  that  Giulio  Ricordi  ventured 
next  year  to  organize  the  Societa  Orchestrale  del  Teatro 
della  Scala,  giving  four  (later  six)  annual  orchestral 
concerts  under  F.  Faccio.  Ricordi,  as  the  sworn  enemy 
of  the  "aweniristi,"  and  (of  course)  an  equally  fanatical 
partisan  of  Italian  music,  so  arranged  the  programs  of 
his  Society  as  to  contrast  with  those  of  the  Quartetto. 
At  the  outset  they  were  almost  exclusively  national  in 
character.  For  example,  the  second  La  Scala  concert 
(with  the  cooperation  of  M.  Roeder),  on  April  18,  1880, 
presented  the  names  of  Bazzini,  Palestrina,  Ronchetti, 
Cherubini,  Lotti,  Verdi  (Paternoster  and  Ave  Maria,  as 
novelties),  Stradella,  and  Rossini.  But  in  the  selfsame 
year  German  influence  broke  through  this  barrier,  too, 
with  the  Tannhduser  overture. 

Thus  the  La  Scala  concerts  might  have  formed  a 
brilliant  complement  to  those  of  the  Quartetto.  But 
this  latter  thought  best  to  avoid  competition,  and 
thenceforth  contented  itself  with  two  symphony  evenings. 

1  The  Gazz.  Mus.  di  Milano  (1878,  p.  23),  said:  "As  an  entrance-fee  is  charged 
for  these  concerts — a  mere  trifle,  but  still  an  entrance-fee — few  persons  attend 
them."    Tickets  for  the  whole  cycle  cost  from  12  to  20  lire! 


262 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

Now,  one  would  suppose  that  the  Milanese,  in  order  to 
enjoy  at  least  some  little  symphony  music,  would  have 
fairly  besieged  the  La  Scala  concerts.  Not  a  bit  of  it; 
for  in  1881  the  Orchestra  Society  found  itself  obliged, 
for  lack  of  subscribers,  to  suspend  its  evening  concerts 
until  1882,  when  it  recommenced  with  a  fair  prospect 
of  success. 

Turin  owes  the  renascence  of  absolute  music  foremostly 
to  Count  Marmorito,  Count  Franchi-Vernay  (Ippolito 
Valetta),  and  Carlo  Pedrotti,  the  founders  (1866)  of  the 
Societa  del  Quartetto,  and  (1870)  of  the  Concerti 
Popolari.  The  Turin  Quartet  (leader,  Augusto  Ferni), 
although  doing  admirable  work  from  the  start,  has 
never  been  esteemed  according  to  its  deserts.  On  the 
other  hand,  Pedrotti  succeeded  in  training  his  orchestra 
so  well  that  in  the  orchestral  competition  at  the  Paris 
Exposition  of  1878  they  triumphantly  carried  off  the 
prize.  The  brightest  page  in  the  recent  musical  history 
of  Turin  was  written  in  the  year  1884.  The  Turin 
Exhibition  then  assembled  six  prominent  Italian  or- 
chestras— those  of  Turin,  under  F.  Faccio  (Pedrotti 
had  assumed  the  management  of  the  Liceo  Rossini  at 
Pesaro  in  1882),  of  Milan,  also  under  Faccio,  of  Naples, 
under  Martucci,  of  Bologna,  under  Mancinelli,  of  Rome, 
under  Ettore  Pinelli,  and  of  Parma,  under  Cleofonte 
Campanini.  Since  then,  musical  activity  has  somewhat 
subsided  in  Turin,  it  is  said. 

This  note  on  Turin  affords  a  striking  proof,  I  think, 
of  the  more  active  cultivation  of  absolute  music  in 
Italy.  In  1850  a  competition  between  six  well-trained 
orchestras  would  have  been  beyond  the  bounds  of 
possibility.  Any  one  who,  moreover,  compares  the 
volumes  of  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  from  1850-1865  with 
those  from  1865-1880,  will  hardly  be  able  to  deny  an 
advance.  Everywhere  the  stirring  of  a  fuller  musical 
life.  Even  towns  from  which  only  operas  were  formerly 
reported,  are  now  frequently  represented  by  classical 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        263 

chamber  music.  Such  cities  as  Siena  begin  to  organize 
orchestral  societies,  and  the  number  of  concerts  con- 
tinually increases. 

While  Rome,  Turin,  Naples  (where  matters  musical 
revolved  about  G.  Martucci  and  Beniamino  Cesi),  Milan 
and  Florence  move  but  slowly,  or  by  fits  and  starts, 
along  this  upstriving  path,  one  city  which  had  been 
left  far  in  the  rear  in  a  short  time  overtook  the  majority 
of  the  others — the  same  city  which  had  unexpectedly 
done  pioneer  work  for  Wagnerian  art.    I  mean  Bologna. 

A  Quartet  Society  was  not  organized  there  until 
1879.  It  began  its  public  career  with  an  orchestral 
concert  under  Mancinelli  on  Nov.  24,  producing  works 
by  Mozart,  Weber,  Mendelssohn  and  Liszt.  This  in 
itself  showed  that  "the  wind  blew  from  another  quarter" 
in  Bologna,  as  Corrado  Ricci  rightly  observed  with 
pride.1 

On  Jan.  11,  1880,  followed  the  first  chamber-music 
concert  of  the  celebrated  "Bolognese  Quartet"  with  the 
same  eminent  personnel  of  which  it  is  still  constituted 
to-day — the  professors  Sarti,  Massarenti,  Consolini,  and 
Serato  (father  of  the  violin-virtuoso).  In  1886  Mancinelli 
made  way  for  Martucci  as  director  of  the  Society,  and 
this  consummate  artist  and  sound  musician  (born  in 
Capua,  1856)  was  yet  more  adroit  than  his  predecessor 
in  initiating  his  audiences,  by  cautious  progress  through 
simpler  works,  into  the  mysteries  of  even  Brahms' 
symphonies.  One  adventitious  circumstance  also  helped 
to  overcome  the  indifference  of  the  higher  circles;  as  at 
Rome,  in  1870,  the  Queen  brought  about  a  more  nu- 
merous and  fashionable  attendance  at  these  concerts  by 
displaying  her  strong  interest  in  them  during  the  Bolo- 
gnese Exhibition  of  1888. 

Martucci's  chief  concern  is  divided  between  Beethoven, 
Schumann  and  Wagner.     It  is  significant  that  the  one- 

i  Introductory  remarks  on  "Societa  del  Quartetto  in  Bologna.  I  primi  cento 
concerti  (1879-1896)";  Azzoguidi,  Bologna,  1897. 


264 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

hundredth  concert  was  wholly  devoted  to  works  by  the 
Master  of  Bonn.  As  for  that,  he  has  better  success 
with  Beethoven  than  with  Schumann  and  Wagner; 
indeed,  as  a  Beethoven  conductor  he  need  fear  no  rival. 
More  especially  the  Ninth  Symphony,  which  has  fas- 
cinated him,  and  through  him  the  Bolognese,  can  hardly 
receive  a  more  thoughtful,  thrilling  and  Beethovenish 
interpretation  than  at  Martucci's  hands. 

And  still,  I  find  fault  with  one  thing,  namely,  the 
arrangement  of  the  programs.  True,  considering  the 
limited  average  number  of  seven  (4  :  3)  concerts,  not 
everything  can  be  included;  and  337  works  by  68  com- 
posers during  the  period  from  1879  to  1886  is  a  compara- 
tively acceptable  record.  But  these  programs  bear 
witness  to  a  questionable  Teutomania;  and  but  little 
is  done  for  the  younger  Italian  generation.  There  may 
be  good  reasons  for  passing  over  the  younger  Germans.1 
The  public  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  relish  them. 
But  it  should  be  the  duty  of  the  Society  to  aid  the  rising 
talent  of  the  country.  Possibly  the  Directorate  asks, 
Where  are  they?  Well,  that  would  soon  be  seen  if  an 
opportunity  were  presented  them  of  having  their  works 
performed  by  the  Societa  del  Quartetto — an  opportunity 
roundly  denied  them,  by  the  way,  in  §18  of  its  by-laws: 
Net  concerti  si  eseguisce  soltanto  musica  di  maestri  antichi 
e  moderni  saliti  in  jama.  (In  the  concerts  shall  be  per- 
formed only  works  by  early  and  modern  masters  who 
have  won  renown.)  But  even  Italian  masters  who  have 
won  recognition,  like  Cherubini,  Sgambati,  Bazzini, 
Martucci,  appear  only  semi-occasionally,  while  Enrico 
Bossi,  Sinigaglia  and  Zuelli  are  conspicuous  by  their 
absence.  And  where  are  the  Italian  classicists  from 
1650  to  1750?!  A  few  names  such  as  L.  Leo,  Corelli, 
Marcello,    Scarlatti,    Sacchini,    Sammartini,    Stradella, 

lEven  Richard  Strauss  did  not  get  a  hearing  at  the  "Four-Nations'  Concerts" 
(which  were  intentionally  arranged  modernissime)  of  1898,  among  Italians,  Eng- 
lishmen, French-Belgians,  and  Germans — as  which  last  Franz  Liszt  and  Dvorak 
figured,  instead! 


NEW   UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        265 

Veracini — these  can  certainly  afford  no  adequate  pre- 
sentation of  this  great  epoch,  which  has  a  significance, 
for  Italy,  on  a  par  with  the  period  from  1750  to  1850 
for  Germany; — an  epoch,  a  general  familiarity  with  which 
would  assuredly  be  worth  more  to  Italians  than  dozens 
of  concerts  producing  works  by  German  masters  ex- 
clusively. 

Let  us  see  how  chamber  and  orchestral  music  fared, 
outside  of  Bologna,  toward  the  turn  of  the  century. 
The  following  details  will  tend  to  show  that  the  upward 
trend  has  not  yet  come  to  a  standstill. 

In  1893  the  Royal  Institute  of  Music  in  Florence,1 
recognizing  the  necessity  of  neutralizing  the  prevalent 
Teutomania  by  an  exhibition  of  specifically  Tuscan 
classic  compositions,  arranged  three  historical  concerts. 
From  the  fourteenth  to  the  eighteenth  century  were 
selected  works  by  Landino,  Corteccia,  Malvezzi,  Ani- 
muccia,  Bottegari,  Peri,  Gagliano,  Vitali,  Cesti,  Lulli, 
Pasquini,  Clari,  Veracini,  Rutini,  Nardini,  Boccherini 
and  Cherubini;  nineteenth-century  compositions  by 
Pacini,  Gordigiani  and  Mabellini  were  performed.  A 
similar  series  was  brought  out  two  years  later  by  the 
Accademia  di  S.  Cecilia  at  Rome.  Needless  to  say  that, 
besides  this,  the  regular  series  of  from  eight  to  ten  annual 
concerts  were  given  as  usual,  not  even  shrinking  from 
the  expense  of  engaging,  in  1896,  the  Halir  and  Rose 
Quartets.  The  Societa  del  Quartetto  di  Milano  has 
likewise  maintained  its  high  level;  the  Societa  Orche- 
strate, in  particular,  presents  model  programs  there,2  for 
instance,  that  of  1896,  bearing  the  names  of  Haydn, 
Tschaikowsky,  Wagner,  Beethoven,  Grieg,  Brahms, 
Schubert,  Mancinelli,  Girard,  Saint-Saens,  Trucio,  Pon- 
chielli,  Verdi. 


iThe  "Atti"  of  this  Institute,  by  the  way,  decidedly  deserve  more  attention 
from  historians  of  music,  than  these  important  publications  have  hitherto  received. 

2  It  should  be  mentioned,  however,  that  Campanari  had  to  make  up  a  deficit 
of  10,000  lire  after  his  Beethoven  Cycle  of  1899;  which  shows  that  sufficient  support 
can  be  found  for  one  such  enterprise,  but  not  for  two. 


266 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

In  Naples,  to  be  sure,  the  excellent  Ferni  Quartet 
ceased  to  exist,  but  maestro  Rossomandi,  far  from  being 
discouraged,  organized  the  Neapolitan  Orchestra  in 
1866,  and  thus  hitched  Naples  again  to  the  star  of  reform. 

In  the  same  year  Rome  records  the  foundation  of  the 
Gulli  Quintet,  which  has  rapidly  attained  to  favorable 
recognition,  and  now  probably  has  few  superiors  among 
ensemble  associations.  Certainly  not  with  regard  to 
its  programs,  on  which  one  finds,  for  instance  in  the 
first  two  concerts  in  1898,  the  names  of  Beethoven, 
Verdi,  Brahms,  Franck,  Rubinstein  and  Sinding. 

The  Tiepoli  Festivals  in  Venice  in  1886  afforded 
Enrico  Bossi  an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  "Trio," 
and  the  concerts  of  the  Societa  Benedetto  Marcello 
which  he  conducts,  in  a  favorable  light.  The  next  year, 
maestri  C.  Boezio,  L.  E.  Ferrari  and  E.  Gilardini  es- 
tablished a  Scuola  di  Pianoforte  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  model  historical  piano-recitals.  In  1899  the 
Societa  Orchestrale  Romana  celebrated  its  twenty-fifth 
anniversary  in  brilliant  style,  which  would  hardly  seem 
to  indicate  senility.  Among  other  cities  we  may  mention 
Palermo,  where  a  Societa  del  Quintetto  was  started  in 
1893;  Brescia,  which  for  almost  thirty  years — since 
Bazzini  went  to  work  there — has  maintained  a  command- 
ing position  in  the  general  uplift;  Padua,  whose  "Trio," 
under  the  purposeful,  refined  and  skillful  leadership  of 
C.  Pollini,  is  winning  new  friends  every  year;  Pesaro, 
where  Mascagni  energetically  promotes  the  cause  of 
modern  music;  and  various  other  towns.  In  fine,  any 
one  who  takes  the  trouble  to  run  through  the  recent 
volumes  of  the  Gazzetta  Musicale,  will  be  astonished 
at  the  remarkable  increase  in  concerts  of  all  kinds. 

What  a  contrast  between  1868  and  1898!  At  the 
former  date  the  Roman  and  Florentine  correspondents 
of  the  Gazzetta  Musicale  only  now  and  then  thought 
it  necessary  to  chronicle  a  concert.  To-day  they  admit 
their  impotence  to  make  head  against  the  tidal  wave  of 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        267 

concerts,  and  find  themselves  obliged,  by  considerations 
of  space,  to  neglect  those  of  minor  importance. 

Furthermore,  the  concorsi,  from  the  Piano-Etude 
(Florence,  1893;  Golinelli)  to  the  Requiem  (Rome,  R. 
Ace.  Filarmonica,  1898),  have  multiplied  rather  than 
diminished.  The  Societa  del  Quartetto  di  Milano,  in 
particular,  has  faithfully  clung  to  its  old  custom,  having 
held  its  twenty-fifth  concorso  in  1894. x  Equally  faithful 
to  its  principles  is  the  Cecilia  Academy  at  Rome.  Its 
concorso  in  1894  called,  inter  alia,  for  an  Overture  in 
classic  form;  in  1895,  for  a  Trio,  and  an  Organ  Sonata 
in  three  movements;  in  1896-97,  for  an  Overture  (or 
Prelude  for  orchestra),  a  String-Quartet,  and  again  an 
Organ  Sonata,  the  exacting  jury  on  awards  not  having 
been  satisfied  the  year  previous.  Florestan  Rossomandi, 
founder  of  the  orchestra  named  after  him  in  Naples, 
instituted  two  concorsi  together  in  1896,  the  one  for  an 
orchestral  piece  in  one  movement,  the  other  for  a  sym- 
phony in  classic  form.  Now,  have  not  the  concorsi  met 
a  genuine  need?  did  not  supply  and  demand  stand  in 
proper  proportion  to  each  other?  had  not  serious  chamber 
and  symphony  music  even  yet  enlisted  the  interest  of 
Italian  composers? — If  not,  how  can  we  explain  the 
fact  that  in  Turin,  at  the  concorso  of  1898  for  a  "Sinfonia 
o  Suite,"  sixty-two  scores  were  handed  in,  twenty-five 
of  them  being  symphonies?  or,  at  the  concorso  of  the 
Societa  Orchestrate  del  Teatro  alia  Scala  in  1895,  that 
223  works  by  102  competitors  were  received? 

But  not  all  the  manifestations  of  revival  have  yet 
been  enumerated.  I  will  barely  refer  to  the  congresses 
of  Italian  musicians  in  1864  and  1881 — something  un- 
heard-of in  Italy;  dwell  for  a  moment  on  the  organizing 
of  Musicians'  Associations,  such  as  the  Societa  Nazionale 
Italiana  di   mutuo  soccorso   per  gli  Artisti   di  Teatro 

1  Prizes  of  1000  and  500  lire  for  a  Sonata  for  violin  and  piano  in  four  movements. 
We  make  special  mention  of  the  victory  of  Guido  Alberto  Fano  (of  Bologna) 
in  1897,  with  a  'Cello  Sonata,  because  this  gifted  composer  will  often  call  for 
notice  in  the  future. 


268 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

(Milanese  Rules  and  Regulations  of  1860,  75,  '81), 
Societa  Italiana  di  mutuo  soccorso  fra  i  Professori 
d'Orchestra  (Milan,  1885),  Societa  Italiana  di  mutuo 
soccorso  fra  i  Coristi  (1885),  etc.;  and  make  special 
mention  of  the  founding  of  the  "Rivista  Musicale 
Italiana"  (Turin,  Fratelli  Bocca,  1894),  and  the  Ricordi 
publication,  "L'Arte  Musicale  in  Italia."  The  guiding 
spirit  of  both  is  Luigi  Torchi  of  Bologna.  Remember, 
that  since  the  discontinuance  of  the  "Vierteljahrs- 
Schrift  fur  Musikwissenschaft"  not  even  Germany  has 
possessed  a  musico-historical  and  musico-critical  organ 
rivalling  this  Italian  Rivista  in  importance.  Consider 
that  the  other  publication,  no  less  vast  in  scope  than  the 
"Denkmaler  deutscher  Tonkunst"  and  the  "Denkmaler 
der  Tonkunst  in  Osterreich,"  pursues  the  aim  of  revi- 
talizing the  musical  art  of  Italy  from  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury down  to  the  present.  Would  such  enterprises  be 
possible  in  a  country  which  was  still  grovelling  in  feeble, 
stolid  self-complacency,  instead  of  standing  vigorously 
erect? 

No!  The  revival  in  Italy's  musical  life  can  hardly 
be  called  in  question  after  what  precedes.  Nevertheless, 
it  has  been  done,  notably  by  J.  Valetta  in  an  ingenious 
but,  in  my  opinion,  all  too  pessimistic  essay,  "La  Musica 
Strumentale  in  Italia,"1  and  again  in  his  article  "II 
basso  livello  del  presente  musicale,  ecc.;"2  also  by  E.  di 
San  Martino  with  his  "Saggio  sopra  alcune  cause  di 
decadenza  della  musica  italiana  alia  fine  del  secolo  XIX" 
(Rome,  Palma);  and,  finally,  by  G.  Ferrero  in  his 
essay  "Crisi  Teatrali"  (in  the  Rivista  Mus.  Ital.,  1898, 
p.  604  et  seq.).  The  last-named  author  voices  this 
pessimism  with  peculiar  vigor  (on  p.  606) : 

It  induces  a  most  melancholy  mood  to  find  oneself  committed 
to  the  writing  of  an  article  on  present  conditions  in  Italian  musical 
life.     When  we  meditate  upon  it,  we  really  do  not  know  whether 

1  "Nuova  Antologia,"  1894,  LIII. 

2  Ibid.,  1895,  p.  772  et  seg. 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        269 


we  ought  to  believe  in  an  artistic  future  for  this  nation,  once  so 
abounding  in  men  of  genius,  and  hereafter  probably  not  to  be 
entirely  sterile.  But  how  can  the  genuine  artist  develop  his 
abilities  as  matters  stand  at  present?  Italy's  musical  activities 
are  concentrated  almost  exclusively  on  the  theatre.  The  people 
love  music  only  in  the  theatre  and  nowhere  else.  Church  and 
instrumental  music  form  the  sole  exceptions;  exotic  growths  in  a 
hothouse.  The  general  public  feels  no  keen  desire  for  them,  and 
accepts  them  quite  passively  and  in  small  doses,  just  as  if  some 
painful  sacrifice  were  involved. 


A  gloomier  picture  could  scarce  be  drawn.  But 
beneath  it  all  one  sees  too  clearly  a  comparison  with 
Germany  and  other  countries.  No  sensible  person  would 
ever  think  of  putting  Italy's  musical  status  on  a  level 
with  that  of  the  other  civilized  lands.  Such  a  comparison 
is  not  only  unwarranted,  but  (as  the  quotation  shows) 
is  too  inducive  of  melancholy.  Thus  one  forfeits  the 
joyous  and  daring  spirit  of  a  confident  outlook  on  the 
future.  If  these  skeptics,  instead,  had  chosen  to  compare 
the  musical  life  of  Italy  prior  to  1850  with  the  period 
after  that  date,  they  could  not  have  failed  to  perceive 
that  many,  very  many  improvements  had  taken  place. 
And  for  all  that  they  would  not  be  obliged  to  swell 
the  ridiculous  chorus  in  which  nearly  all  the  Italian 
musical  periodicals  join:  "We  Italians  were  formerly 
the  pioneers  in  music,  as  we  again  shall  be  in  the  future." 
A  cheap  expedient  for  disguising  their  decadence!  But 
even  the  pessimists  may,  and  should,  feel  a  justifiable 
pride  in  what  has  been  achieved.  Then  they  would 
cooperate  in  the  continuing  uplift  with  a  more  cheerful 
and  effective  sense  of  power.  The  delight  in  music,  the 
taste  and  talent  for  the  interpretation  of  music,  have 
not  perished  in  Italy.  Every  one  knows  this,  who  has 
lived  among  the  Italians.  And  if  their  manner  of 
music-making  differs  materially  from  that  of  the  North- 
erner, that  in  itself  proves  nothing  to  the  disadvantage 
of  either  side.  But  have  the  Italians,  in  point  of  fact, 
lost  their  creative  power?  When,  according  to  the 
statistical  showing  vouched  for  by  G.  Albinati,  a  nation 


270 SUUM  CUIQUE:  ESSAYS  IN  MUSIC 

two-thirds  the  size  of  Germany  produces  74  operas 
and  (as  noted  above)  composes  223  symphonic  works 
for  a  single  competition,  all  in  one  year  (1897),  it  must 
surely  still  be  credited  with  an  abundantly  prolific  vein. 
Whether  the  blood  pulsing  in  this  vein  is  of  fine  quality, 
is  quite  another  question! 

With  regard  to  the  operas,  this  question  is  readily 
answered,  for  we  know  them.  Who  would  venture  to 
deny  that  Mascagni,  Leoncavallo  and  Puccini  possess 
talent?  But,  having  this  "pretty  talent,"  they  are 
unfortunately  infected  with  the  "French  disease,"  as 
Carducci  wittily  observed  of  Ferrari,  the  dramatist. 
And  the  symphonists,  the  chamber-music  writers?  Well, 
these  we  do  not  know.  But  it  certainly  would  be  strange 
if  the  revival  in  Italian  concert-life  should  not  serve  to 
mature  the  germinal  ideas,  so  to  speak,  for  a  new  harvest. 
Talents  do  not  die  out,  unless  the  nation  itself  perish. 
Matters  depend  on  the  more  or  less  favorable  conditions 
of  existence  and  the  opportunities  for  self-expression. 
And  just  these  latter  are  not  given  the  youth  of  Italy, 
despite  the  numerous  concorsi!  I  myself  have  dwelt 
on  the  high  value  of  these  concorsi  for  Italy's  musical 
activities,  so  now  I  do  not  take  exception  to  the  insti- 
tution itself,  but  to  the  manner  of  its  application.  The 
sad  fact  is,  that  prize-compositions  are  played  only 
once  or  twice  by  the  Societa  in  question,  thereafter 
being  laid  at  rest  in  the  archives  of  said  Societa  or  some 
drawer  of  the  hapless-happy  composer's.  So  it  comes 
that  such  works  have  neither  the  power  nor  the  oppor- 
tunity to  win  a  wider  hearing. 

It  were  well  if  the  quartet  associations  should  decide 
to  abandon,  first  of  all,  their  character  as  private  clubs, 
and  then  to  moderate  their  Teutomania,  so  that  more 
Italian  manuscripts  might  see  the  light.  By  such  means 
the  interest  in  concert  music  might  be  carried  down 
among  the  people;  for  the  upper  ten  thousand  are  not 
invariably  the  real  banner-bearers  of  progress.     Above 


NEW  UPLIFT  IN  ITALY'S  MUSICAL  LIFE        271 

all,  however,  it  would  soon  be  evident  that  plenty  of 
symphonies  and  quartets  are  composed.  In  these 
spheres  an  unexpected  increase  in  production  would  be 
seen.  And  it  is  more  than  probable  that  from  among  the 
mass  of  insignificant  works  destined  for  the  dust-heap 
a  certain  number  would  emerge,  worthy  to  be  set 
alongside  of  those  by  Sgambati,  Martucci  and  Bossi. 

Who  can  say  that  the  artistic  revival  of  Italy  would 
then  not  go  hand  in  hand  with  her  material  progress? 
Who  can  say  that  Italy  would  not  again  become,  even 
in  music,  one  of  the  Great  Powers?! 

(Translated  by  Theodore  Baker.) 


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